This is definitely NOT Gran Pulse
by eris hanaka
Summary: All Vanille remembered was Fang's hand. So why when she opened her eyes, awoke from crystal stasis, the touch was nothing more than a distant memory. Meanwhile, a certain Pulsian ends up engaged to...  Xover to LOTR
1. Of horses and nutjobs

**Chapter 1: Of horses and nutjobs**

"Vanille!" Sazh cried as he tried to reach out to her. They were all floating, while Fang and Vanille were falling. What's happening?

Vanille smiled encouragingly at her friends. Her heart knew what will come, and somehow, she wasn't scared anymore. Her eyes met Fang's, never betraying each other to glimpse away. No words were needed, save for a simple nod and tighter grips. She felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through her veins and flowing through her hands and to Fang's and then back again.

Then everything went utterly bright and dark at the same time. She never felt so peaceful and sleepy. She gave in to the nostalgia taking her and everything went blank.

_Open your eyes. A gift is beheld. A life is given._

The grass, its faint whispers, rough texture, and leafy scent, awakened her eternal and minute slumber. Her chest rose and fall and seemed her whole world as it beat down to the soft ground. Her slow breathing, even and calm, was all there is and she lay there for a long while. She couldn't count how long, for the moments seemed all too fast and slow. She forgot how time passes. She slowly opened her eyes. Everything was still dim but instantly light came to her eyes, if only for a little amount. Everything seemed hazy and blurry that she took no notice to the image forming and concentrated on the scent of the wind and earth, and the warmth of the sun kissing her body. Blue sky stretched limitless. Her eyes finally focused. She took a breather and her heart came to a normal steady beat.

"Mmph," she moaned as she tried to get up. "Oh," she let herself say as her lips formed a gentle sound. A smile played on her lips and a gasp escaped her. "Well Vanille, what a scene we are in," she exclaimed to herself cheerfully, "Oooh," she stretched her limbs and felt the air breezing again and whipping her soft curls. "What a beautiful place! Fang, isn't it lovely? Everything is all nature-y and–" she stopped as she turned around. "Fang?" The Pulsian warrior was nowhere to be found. "Am I alone?" she feared for the answer, "Fang! Where are you?"

Fang didn't answer. Where could her friend be? She felt so alone yet not lonely, at least not yet. "Come on Vanille. You can do this," she consoled herself. "Everything will be all right, you'll see. On we go. Let's look around," she laughed as the sudden fear went away quickly. She checked for her gear and found her weapons and accessories still clasped in her clothes.

She started to wander through the fields and followed a seeming trodden path. It went straight forward and soon, Vanille's thoughts wandered to this part of Gran Pulse. Where could she be? She never saw this scenery before but she was sure it wasn't Cocoon. The place is just too nature-y, just the way she liked it. She found herself laughing and humming to herself to keep occupied. Night wore on and she noticed at the setting of the sun that she was going east. Hunger crept to her eventually and settling on the nearest tree, she ate her fill and drank a flask of water. Her provisions, ever since they ventured to Orphan's cradle, had dwindled. She had to forage for something soon. In the meantime, her rations could still last for three or even five days if she was careful. She was glad her crystal slumber didn't spoil her food. Immediately, she fell asleep at the moonlight.

The next morning wore on after Vanille ate again and set off to follow this unknown path. She had to go somewhere and with a path, she was sure she'll run into someone and hope to know where she is and should they know of her company. She rested by the shade after many hours of walk to catch a breather at the warm afternoon sun. She took a nap and rose at parting sunset. She continued her walk at the cool night, occasionally munching a few bites when her stomach protested. The long journey she made with Lightning and the company proved to be a great boon for in the next three days, all she ate were her rations and not a single meal was eaten too much for quantity. She picked some berries, though not the kind she knew, along the way since they smell nice enough. She planned to try them later should they prove palatable.

On her fourth day of journey, she came to a forest and on the fifth to a river. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her water has been running low yesterday. She ran up to the shallowest stream and drank her fill. Then she refilled her water. She lingered a bit more by the river bank and washed her face. The water was cool and refreshing. "Ah! That feels nice!" she exclaimed. She pulled off her boots and dipped her feet to the running water and splashed every now and then. She hummed again her tune that reminded her of Oerba, her home.

Soon though, the sun wavered again and Vanille went off once more. The stars glistened brighter as she walked deeper into the woods. The leaves seemed not to cover them but frame them to an all the more picturesque image. She noticed her head was held up more often now and stopped more to marvel at the sky. Finally, weariness came to her and she settled at the nearest boulder and soon fell asleep.

Day came and went and now Vanille wandered for a week. She was getting weary and more worried at Fang's predicament. A week and not a single human in sight! "Apparently, this paths are not so known or travelling isn't a high time," she said to herself. "But the day is so fine to walk into nature. Pulse isn't all that–"

She suddenly heard heavy footfalls. She looked back at the road and made out the distant image galloping fast. The beast were certainly not chocobos, they were white and brown, and looked more of Lightning's gestalt Odin, Sleipnir. Fear cautioned her and she quickly hid from the trees. Soon enough, the riders stopped. They laughed and sang to each other and the voice that beheld them cast a comforting soothe to Vanille's heart.

'Such a beautiful voice,' she thought to herself. One of the beasts nuzzled its head toward her direction. Out of surprise, Vanille stepped back and immediately, dreadfully regretted it. Her foot caught a twig and the splintering sound echoed horribly throughout her ears.

The company went quiet. Vanille held her breath. 'Way to go Vanille,' she sourly scolded herself, 'now you're in for a fight.'

One of them got down and went to her direction. "Who goes there?"

* * *

Fang remembered quite well eternal 'salvation' didn't get hold of her. She simply closed her eyes at the burning light Ragnarok emitted within her and Vanille. When she opened her eyes, a forest greeted her. Where is she? She gripped her spear tighter and examined her surroundings. Wait a minute– "Vanille?" her friend was nowhere in sight. She growled frustratingly at the repeating event. Vanille is gone and she has to look for her in this far wide planet. Again. Sweet Maker, why such fate?

Fang wasn't the brooding type however and suddenly noticed the air was quiet, too quiet for a forest. There should be some animal making a noise, no matter how small, and her instincts told her to assume caution. Vanille is definitely nowhere in near radius, for the young woman is always loud on her own, so no point calling her name again. Something is definitely amiss–

One whip of wind was enough for her. She raised Kain's Lance just barely to block the bow and arrow two feet away from her face and aim her weapon at the bowman in front of her. Seven or more aimed at her throat, sideways and back. She didn't back down but kept silent, resilient at the turning of events.

"What brings you here, stranger?" Fang was quite sure what she heard was right. This 'man' is either trying to speak and failing horribly or Gran Pulse has some far distant land no one knows about. His accent was thicker than her comprehension. Why, even Sazh and Snow could pull a better accent than this.

She remained silent, not trusting any of them. "Do you not understand the Common Speech?" another asked.

Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I heard ya. And I bloody understand what ya said. Thing is, I don't have any answers for that."

"Lower your weapon, woman, and we'll lower ours."

She snorted. "Like I'm an idiot; you guys are what? Twenty? Tch. Lower yours first and maybe I'll put my toy down." They lowered theirs without hesitation. Fang had to raise her brow in surprise. "Ok, didn't expect that." She lowered her weapon and smirked. "Though the others at the tree aren't all too willing."

"This is our home and we have every right to keep it safe from any danger. Who are you and where do you come from?"

"Fang. Gran Pulse," she replied. The look everyone gave her made her roll her eyes. "Never heard the place?"

"We know every land, castle, and forest here in Middle Earth and not a single place is named in such a manner, less so the name itself. You are in Greenwood, or Mirkwood as it is now known to men, for dark tidings have come to pass in this land. You are within Lord Thranduil's halls."

"Right… and you are?"

"His kin, an elf sworn to his liege."

* * *

Elladan got ready for his sword, ready to fight. He was expecting the worst, a band of orcs or a group of thieving men. His brother not so much far pulled out an arrow and aimed at the incoming beast.

The leaves and bush rustled as something or someone made its way. Elladan gripped his sword harder.

Soft red curls and pink greeted his eyes. It was a young lady, barely in her womanhood. She had light green eyes and quite a fair skin though a bit tanned due to the sun's warmth. Her hair was bright red and tied in half each to her shoulders. She looked at them in shy, wonder, fear, and awe.

Vanille never saw a human so fair like them. "Oh," she couldn't help but say. She loosened her hold on her wand at her back and clasped both her hands on her chest and grinned in amazement. She didn't felt scared at their company though the two in front had their weapons pointing at her. "Oh."

Elladan lowered his sword but did not let go. She may not be the fairest sight his eyes laid upon, for his beauty only held to her mother Celebrían, but her look of wonder at the sight of elves lightened his heart. "Who are you?"

Vanille smiled in the nicest way she could muster and introduced herself. "My name is Oerba dia Vanille, though you could skip the Oerba dia part. I'm from Oerba, hence my name, a once land of Gran Pulse."

The man in front of her looked confused at her words. "There is no land claimed as Oerba nor Grand Pulse. Do you take me for a fool?" he said the last part rather seriously and Vanille knew he felt he was insulted at the seeming blunt lie.

But it was the truth. Vanille looked pleading. "Please, I just want to find my friend. Her name is Oerba yun Fang, or simply Fang. I'm sorry but I don't know where I am."

They seem to pity her for their eyes softened. "It seems a long journey has befallen you young lass. Comfort it seems deems best for your weary soul. I am Elladan and this is my brother Elrohir," he beckoned to the man likened to him. "We are the sons of Elrond half-elven and on our way to Rivendell, our home. Will you not come with us?"

"Rivendell? Is that on Cocoon?" The name for Vanille sounds more Cocoon-ish that Pulsian.

"Cocoon? Such a strange name. No, it is not. But a cocoon it could be for it protects what is preserved so frail inside. Should it enlighten you so, you are in Middle Earth."

Elrohir came forward with his horse. He smiled warmly. "Come Vanille, I shall bear you. My brother is already laden with his own burden of carrying most of our things." Elrohir got down as well and offered Vanille to sling first. "Have you ridden on horses?"

"So that's what it's called," she replied aloud. "No. But chocobos are bigger than these and I've ridden them." She swung lightly to the horse's back. Its fine fur, unlike chocobo feathers, proved to be less comfortable. She squirmed for a bit before settling.

Meanwhile, the brothers had to keep the urge of laughing at her antics and looking away. Vanille seemed to notice the action. "What's wrong?"

"My lady, has your land deemed clothes to be scarce?" Elrohir inquired amusedly.

Vanille caught on quickly. She huffed. "I'm very comfortable in these. What's wrong with it?"

Elladan shook his head. "Never mind, young lady. Let us ride and meet our father. He will gladly provide more subtle clothes for you."

* * *

Fang never figured out how these crazy people claiming to be elves got her to walk deeply further to the woods. The branches and trunks twisted and turned like a foreboding omen yet they trod on and their way opened like the forest cleared a path for them. Fang tried to recount their path but all seemed lost in these woods. They didn't bother tying her up as well. She walked rather freely and with her spear still in hand.

She tried to gather her thoughts. Is this all amnesia again, explaining Vanille's disappearance? She tried to remember but the sight of Lightning, Vanille and finally Ragnarok only went through her mind.

Now that her mind is delving, she finally noticed once you get to hang with these folks, Fang noted how nimble and light these people walk and how graceful and elegant they seem to go. They all bore jet black hair and deep gray eyes. They were the perfect image of regal grace and poise.

She followed left and right before finally halting to what seemed like a hall made of trees and forest. Now, Fang is entirely convinced these people claiming elves are in serious head damage. This is surely Gran Pulse. The architecture, though a great deal more beautiful, still held the basic design of Pulse, close to nature and humankind.

They stopped at a clearing. Another person was there but unlike the others, he was dressed in a grander fashion and possessed a circlet on his head. 'This must be the leader of the nutjobs,' Fang thought dryly, 'Lord Thranduil, eh?'

"State your name." Thranduil's voice was deep and commanding but not enough to pierce her heart to quaver.

"Fang. You?"

A narrow sword easily went its way to her throat. "How dare you speak to the Lord of Mirkwood in such fashion?" the leader of Fang's company hissed. Fang rolled her eyes.

"Peace," he held his hand up to lower the leader's weapon. "This child does not yet know who she is dealing with."

And that is strike three, screw the second and first. It was one to thing to be dragged into some place full of crazy people but it is another to be insulted as somewhat to be treated lightly. Fang's blood was boiling with indignation. She's the strongest of their company in Pulse and this crazy lord claims she does not know who she's dealing with? "First, I have no business with you and your crazy people. Second, I'm sure I can take out this cavalry the minute I strike. Third, I don't like you. Not. One. Bit."

"You think you can take us?" the leader repeated half amused.

As if on cue, a person appeared, sprinting with the wind. Fang took note he was the fairest elf she ever saw. And the fact she had described a 'him' fair.

"We're attacked," he called out. "We need more reinforcements."

Fang's guards immediately left her at the signal of the lord. Fang glanced at Thranduil and smirked. "Let me show you, _lord_, who exactly you are dealing with." She traced the mark of her brand and then it glowed bright. The elves grew silent in a seeming fear, awe and amazement. Arrows were released at her rash behavior. All seemed for naught as the weapons thrown were blocked by the blinding light as it grew larger. "Bahamut!" Fang called out her eidolon.

Out came from thin air a dragon so magnificent and large. Fang climbed nimbly on top of it and out it sped to the company's direction to the fight. It arrived just in time. Both elves and creatures Fang never saw scrambled away at the sight of her beast, tugging a vicious smug on her lips. She smirked as she landed neatly to the ground, striking three monsters at her landing. Bahamut cleared another three.

The group came charging towards her. She waited for her breath to catch up. She did two blitzes and attacked. She changed immediately to her sentinel role and did two quick steelguard, enough to take the least damage the monsters were inflicting upon her. Bahamut gave a war cry and sent the attackers flying. With their stagger held in place, Fang switched to her Ravager role and casted froststrike and flamestrike in alternate roles. They staggered at the repeating attacks and Fang took this the opportunity to switch to saboteur and cast slowga. With the enemy weakened, Fang brandished her weapon. "No mercy!" she shouted her battle cry before doing Highwind. Bahamut was now ready for gestalt mode and Fang climbed onto him once more to summon Megaflare. With a single swept, all the enemies died in Fang's range.

The rest of the enemy retreated. The elves, fending off the last of the creatures, stopped with caution to examine this dark woman. The creature in her stead seemed to have disappeared all too suddenly at her call. This woman is dangerous should she prove to be against them. But she didn't and instead killed the orcs in their stead.

Fang really wanted to rub it all to these nuts. 'That'll teach them to mess with me,' she smirked to herself. "Dealing with the wrong person now, eh?"

"Our utmost apologies, Lady Fang," one of the elves bowed low. It took Fang two seconds to realize this was the same one who pointed his sword at her throat. "You have proven your quality at our aid. Would you be in Lord Mithrandir's steed of our trouble?"

Fang's thoughts wildly stared at the name they provided. These people are beyond crazy. "You seriously lost your bonkers. But ok, I'll play your little game. No, I am not sent by anybody."

The elves remained silent on how to take this new information. Clearly, they still haven't accepted Fang's under treatment to them and her mysterious origin. She was taken back to Thranduil's halls. The elven lord seemed unimpressed at her skills, no matter how much the elves report her cause. Fang never felt so frustrated before. Her anxiety is building up. Even the cavalry on Cocoon was way better with this insanity. Vanille is gone; she's lost, and stuck with them.

"Look, can I just go?" Fang blurted out at the silence. "I really need to find Vanille and get back to Gran Pulse."

"Lady Fang, you may have proven your side of the war but you to be let loose prove to be much dangerous," Thranduil replied, "You might be a spy of the Dark enemy, or one of the Haradrim, dark in skin. No, it would prove us more ill to lose you in my hand. Therefore, you shall accompany my son until Lothlorien. From there, you shall meet the Lady Galadriel and she shall see things most fit to you."

An elf stepped out of the shadows of the trees. He bore a striking resemblance to the king, though younger in eyes of experience. He bowed low. "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil lord of Mirkwood."

"Great," Fang muttered under her breath. "I have another nutjob."


	2. The company of elves

**Chapter 2: The company of Elves**

"So lady Vanille. Tell me what Gran Pulse is like," Elrohir said. The two had finished singing in their tongue about The Great Journey. Of course, Vanille didn't understand any word they said but their voice is enough for her to be enchanted. It seemed more beautiful when she listens to it longer.

"Oh, well… it's really just like here, very nature-y unlike Cocoon," Vanille smiled and continued to look around in wonder. "Although we had our struggle to the Fal'cie, we can't deny they have provided a great deal to our life and home."

"The Fal'cie? What beings could they be?" it was Elladan's turn to be curious. He looked at his brother and the two shared the same confusion and interest.

Vanille went silent in thought. "You know, I really can't say. I mean, I don't know where to start."

Elladan laughed. "Well then, how about stories?"

That, Vanille had one. "Ok, I'll tell you one. Long ago, there was the Maker. Out of loneliness or love, one cannot tell, he created our world. With it, he created two Beings that would govern the world. He first created the Fal'cie who oversaw the comings and goings of the world. The second were humans, us. Each he gave a gift of eternity. The Fal'cie were given the eternity of life whereas the humans were bestowed the eternity of freedom." She paused, lost in her tale of her home. She cast her head down. How she missed the flowers of Oerba. "When I think about it, everything seemed like a dream…"

"Vanille?" Elrohir placed his hand on Vanille's.

She looked at him and smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. It's just really too much. I mean, I'm there and now I'm here, and Fang is gone… again, and well, just tired of everything."

"Then lift your heart at ease for our destiny is for the weary of soul," Elladan declared. He began to sing a soothing tune about home and peace, and though Vanille couldn't understand it, she felt the song pierce her heart. She would have her rest then. Maybe, this is the eternal slumber the Fal'cie promised.

The two brothers journeyed quicker while keeping their pace as even as possible to keep their new company sleeping. They past the woods quietly without any event and only stopped once to give their horses a rest. Vanille stirred on that time and got off the horse as well. Her energy quite recharged for a bit, she took the opportunity to explore again. There wasn't anything much to do and she soon found herself wandering bank to the two brothers. She still can't quite put what it is with the two. Maybe it's the part 'elven' why they looked so… different. They were very beautiful and literally glowing like fallen stars.

Her mind though was not completely lost without Fang. Where ever could her friend be?

All too soon, they mounted on their beast once more and they started again. A few hours later, Vanille could swear the two weren't the only ones singing. There was a minstrel joining with their voices. She looked around for any more 'elf'-like people but nothing past her eyes. Her ears weren't fooled yet though, and she could hear the rustling of the leaves against the wind and to their direction. She kept glancing from side to side.

Elrohir noticed this action immediately. "You have a sharp ear, should your eyes deceive you. Aye, we are being followed but worry not! They are my people and they simply want to welcome us when we arrive at Imladris."

Vanille gave a confused look. "I thought we're going to Rivendell."

Elladan laughed in spite of himself. "Imladris is Sindarin for Rivendell. It is an elvish word."

"Oh," was all Vanille could say. "You mean the language you keep using to Elrohir and the words of your songs?"

"Yes."

Moment later, they arrived at a gate with pillars of stone and tree. A tall man dressed in white robe was by the gate, flanked by a number of others. They were all raven haired, fair faced, and smiling at their arrival. The one in the front extend his arms in welcome. "You have returned!" He said warmly at the two elves approaching in their tongue.

The brothers dismounted their horse and rushed to greet their father. "Ada," they chorused affectionately. Elladan then bowed low, "Our scout had been fortunate; there are no reports of orcs in the West."

"Ada, we found someone seeking rest," Elrohir said excitedly beckoning to their new company. Elrond looked to his son's direction and saw a young lady perched on top of his son's horse, looking both nervous and amazed.

Elrond raised his brow slightly. "Have you taken interest on marrying this elleth?"

Elladan laughed at his brother's embarrassment as the other went a slight flush of misunderstanding. "Ada! Her name is Vanille, a woman worn of her journey."

"She's a mortal Ada," Elladan managed to say, deciding to help his brother's fluster. "Though yes, she is as fair as any elleth."

Elrond raised his hands in welcome. "Come stranger, welcome to Rivendell. I hope you'll find rest to our company," he shifted finally his tongue to Westron.

Vanille, deciding she was now welcome, dismounted the horse and approached carefully this man. He looked so much like the two brothers. 'This must be their eldest.' She bowed lightly. "Vanille, at your call."

The man smiled. "And I am Elrond, father of Elladan and Elrohir."

Vanille, stopped dead in her thoughts. "Wait, you are their father?" She faltered, forgetting her formality. "You don't seem old."

"We are elves, lady Vanille, untouched by time," Elrond explained. He looked at his sons expecting for any explanation. The brothers were surprised as well. Had she not known elves are immortal?

* * *

Legolas watched closely at his new guardian duty. He sighed in spite of himself. Had he not earned the title prince of Mirkwood, most swift and nimble of foot and deadly to enemies? Apparently all those centuries of work had not much changed with his father. He was still kept to minimum duty. Now, he is tasked to keep watch of this woman. Why, oh Valar high up?

Fang wasn't all too peachy keen with the predicament as well. This 'nut' prince (she still refused to adhere them as elves) won't let her escape out of his sight. She threatened to hurt him countless time but it seems this elf in unperturbed and more than willing to spar. Twice it really came to that and Fang had to control the urge to simply end him with a Ruinga. No doubt she is much stronger than him but he was quicker and light-footed that she had a hard time keeping up with him. She used more her sentinel techniques to parry any of his attack.

All in all, the elf and the Pulsian were having a really bad day.

Not so much a week has passed when the company made ready to depart. A host of elves clad in cloaks flanked their prince, mounted on some beast Fang was sure it was a kind of Lightning's Sleipnir. Suddenly Legolas approached her and shoved a beast like the one they were on. Fang simply stared at him. "You want me to ride on it?" her voice barely contained her sarcasm.

Whether Legolas noticed it or not, he seemed to ignore her. "Have you not seen a horse before? They prove to be swift in journey. We shall start our journey today."

"Took you long enough," she muttered back, knowing all too well this guy would plainly hear her. It wasn't long when she found out these people have such strong senses. Fang mounted the horse easily one sided like she always do on a wild chocobo. She didn't have much of a hard time as Legolas expected since she had her own rough rides with the yellow birds and compared to this, it is tame as she could muster.

"We shall take it slow across our borders and only then will we ride hard to the west past the Mountains and arrive to Imladris. It shall be a long road and I could only hope you could keep up," Legolas said and sighed in spite of his self. This woman shall delay their ride for at least three days until they reached Lothlorien to finally get rid of her.

As if in reply, Fang kicked lightly the horse's side. It neighed and galloped wildly out of sight. This eased Fang's tension for a bit. She had forgotten what the adrenaline rush felt and she laughed in spite of herself. Not too soon, she heard another galloped and another minute Legolas was beside her, horse sprinting fast as well.

"We are leaving them Lady Fang," he said calmly.

Fang snorted. "My point exactly. I'm going to leave this company and find Vanille."

"A friend of yours?" he inquired.

"The only one here to stick with me for the longest time. I promised to keep her safe and I intend to do that. I have to find her," she said it more to herself than to him. She needed all the more will now that she is in this foreign part of Pulse with wackos for company. "And I'll tear the sky if that is what it takes."

"The Valar would not be pleased with such oath," Legolas cautioned, though his respect for this woman elevated a bit. There is strength in her voice and he is no fool to take it for granted.

Fang looked at him hard and for a moment Legolas felt a certain power pulsating at this woman. "The Fal'Cie were not pleased with what I did as well but it didn't stop me taking them down."

"The… Fal'Cie?"

"Beings that provide us food, light, and necessity of life."

"They are the Valar then."

Fang didn't want to hear anymore. "Whatever. I'll take them down if they have Vanille. As for now," she grinned, "Let's go!" she sped faster and ran past of sight to the elves but Legolas was sharper in sight than his folk and he followed her undaunted, though many are in his thoughts. Who is she?

* * *

"And this is Erestor," Elladan finally finished introducing. Erestor bowed low to Vanille.

"A pleasure of meeting you Lady Vanille," he said. "I perceive we will meet oftentimes to brief you with the lore of this world."

Vanille smiled and made a little bow, imitating Erestor's. "Thank you. You can call me Vanille only."

They started the tour and found Vanille good company. She was so full of life and very curious about the comings and goings of Imladris that the twins could not keep Erestor away, happily explaining all the mechanism to the young lady. The brothers tried to keep the older elf from over exciting himself at such an enthusiastic student.

Elrond briefly watched them for a moment and smiled at the sight. Vanille's energy reminded him very much of Arwen's younger years, when Celebrian was still there, and everything seemed in bliss. He may have only met this young woman today but already his heart proved close to her. He never saw the brothers laughing as much as Arwen's company, if not more.

Shortly after, Glorfindel came to his company. "I am ready to depart," he said.

Elrond looked away and turned his attention to the golden haired warrior. "Pray keep Estel's journey safe from harm."

"Aye. He will be in good hands," he made a little bow and went out. As the elf warrior approached the gate, he was caught on the group of the two brothers.

"Where are you going?" Elladan asked.

"I am sent by your father to keep watch on Aragorn."

"Can we come?" Elrohir asked, joining his brother's side.

Glorfindel shooked his head. "No. You shall stay here and keep this young lady entertained."

"I believe she is occupied enough with our teacher," Elladan looked at the two, still busy with their conversation about the seasons and festivals. Elrohir remained silent though and seemed to see Glorfindel's point.

"Aragorn is heading this way so you need not worry to miss him," Glorfindel assured the older man. He looked at Vanille and bowed low. "My lady, I hope you'll enjoy their company."

Vanille turned to him and smiled sweetly. "Thank you very much, Glorfindel. I will." She turned her attention once more to Erestor.

And there, Glorfindel sped off.

Days come to pass to Vanille's stay and though much rest and peace this place provides, she could not help but worry for Fang. Twice she asked to bid leave and search for her companion but always Elrohir refused, fearing of the danger she could meet. "Can you fight should orcs attack you?" Elladan asked.

Vanille crossed her arms and tried to look intimidating. "I really can Elladan! Just take me with you when you go off hunting." This they refuse. Vanille would have loved to incinerate the ground to prove her power but she felt pitiful at the beauty unmarred in this halls. So Vanille ended stuck in Rivendell, learning their lore and customs of Middle-Earth like any Children of Illuvatar knew.

* * *

Meanwhile, on the open field, the elves camped for the night. They finally caught up with their prince and his captive after a league of swift journey with their heavy packs. They did made good progress but they were all weary with the sudden sprint. They were a bit miffed at the rash behavior their lord did, consenting to the misbehavior of the dark woman but made no comment. Their heart lightened enough at the sight of stars and instantly they were at ease. They began to sing on the open fire and happily told of the old days. Their voice blended with the wind and their ode chorused like minstrels in their lord's halls.

Legolas was with their company but he didn't felt like singing. Instead, he watched her.

He never really saw her sit properly like on the ground, always standing tall and proud like an elf warrior. But now she is, distant from them and watching silently the night sky. Her weapon was loose on her hand and her feet tucked in. If he could ignore the threat of her weapon, he was sure he could see a mere woman or elleth simply watching the sky. Curiosity to her proved greater. Legolas, sighing to himself, finally joined her.

"Is something of the matter?" he asked behind her.

Fang didn't look back and continued to watch the sky. "Looking up, I could have believed I'm back at Oerba. They are the same stars. Vanille would have loved them," she stood up again and finally faced him. "What would I gain when I join you guys? You're not looking for her."

"We are crossing lands and the likelihood of seeing your friend in this path is great," he replied.

"But my friend doesn't know these lands as well," she replied. "She doesn't know any paths."

"You shall come to Lothlorien," he continued like he didn't hear her. "And though Father never approves of them, they shall help you."

"Wait, what?" Fang asked, finally comprehending the events. "You're going to leave me there?"

"Yes."

"…Cool."

The next day, the journey was silent. Fang didn't sprint with her horse like yesterday and remained deep in thought. Legolas took no heed to her this time and sang with his company, this time about the fertile land of Arda. Of course, Fang never really caught a single understanding of what they say and shortly concluded they were possessed by some mental spirit. Not that the mental spirit is bad: their song, voice and words felt aesthetic to Fang and she could make out images of them. She enjoyed them for the most part. She particularly liked the low voices, rippling like leaves of summer.

Their journey continued and to what seemed like countless nights and days to Fang, they finally arrived at the borders of a forest thicker than Mirkwood. Its trees were silver that Fang could swore she really might be not in Gran Pulse. She remained silent though.

"This is Lothlorien," Legolas said, "We shall take our leave from here. May… the blessing of the Valar and Elbereth be on you." His company bowed to her as well.

"Uh… thanks…?" Fang replied, not knowing what could you reply. Their sentences were so old fashioned she would have laughed if not for their hospitality. They were nice, she admitted to herself. They never bind her. She had been rash as well at Vanille. She dismounted her horse and gave it back, smiling lightly. "You too. Good luck with whatever you're doing."

They depart company. Fang, alone once more, started to venture to the Golden woods.

She could tell from the very moment she put her feet on the ground and left her horse to their care, someone is watching her. She ignored the sensation though and kept walking, but not without drawing out her spear and proceeding with caution. The leaves and trees swayed in the most unusual way, though Fang couldn't quite put what is wrong with it. She walked for the first hour before finally stopping to her tracks and got ready for battle. "You better not shoot," she called loud.

As if on cue, people appeared out of the trees and surrounded her. Somehow, she felt the memory of having this in Mirkwood. "Great," she muttered under her breath, "Get advice from a nutjob and they send you to another equal crazy place." She maintained her calm mind and lowered her weapon. "Now, are you going to shoot or ask first?"

One of them asked in an inquiring tone, but in a language Fang couldn't understand, probably the same language the 'nut' people were using as well. She remained quiet. They spoke again but not in the tongue she knew. She grew frustrated. "Can anyone even understand Pulsian?"

"Do you mean Westron?" someone asked. He appeared before the flank. He was golden-haired like the rest of the group but looked more authoritative. "I am Haldir, captain of the guard of the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Speak quickly stranger, or your head will be on my name."

"Fang," she said curtly.

"Sharp name for a warrior," Haldir replied. He signaled his men to lower their weapons. "Not many here speak your tongue and only I could speak it in our group. What is your business here? We do not trust any strangers, a dark one at that."

Fang decided to leave all the discriminating assault to her skin color. "I'm looking for a friend. Thranduil sent me to see your Galadriel."

"I have no knowledge the forest of Mirkwood and Lothlorien are now in peace," Haldir commented and added more but in Sindarin to his company. They began to talk quickly, probably what was to be done with her. Fang kept her cool a little longer. Apparently, Thranduil and this Galadriel are not on the most convenient terms. So why did he sent me here?, she thought. Probably, to get rid of her and be another's responsibility. Fang now knew what she would do if they try to get hold of her: she would leave this place, summon Bahamut to the sky and look for any bright red figure dancing.

But before he or she could tell their resolve, a group of more elves ran to them. On the front was a woman and the very sight of her took her breath away. This woman is the very image of beauty and no amount of convincing would sway her. Her hair was the deepest black and shimmered brightly at the pale glimmer of the sun's ray shining in the silver trees. Her eyes were the most gray and both soft and crystal to look upon.

"Peace Haldir, she is expected in my grandmother's halls," her voice was like the ripples of water in Oerba but piercing like the crystal stasis of her last slumber. Her head turned to look at her and for a moment, Fang could not count the length of time that passed as their eyes met. The woman's eyes were wide in wonder looking at her too, like she saw a beauty to marvel as well. "You must be Oerba Yun Fang," she smiled and bowed low. "I am Arwen, son of Elrond Half-elven Lord of Imladris. Come and be at peace for the Golden Woods is fairest to look upon in these dark times."

"Is she given permission as well, my lady, to see the path to our fair city?" Haldir's voice brought Fang back to reality. It was even but Fang could tell plainly he was hiding his contempt at the thought.

"Ah, that is that matter…" Arwen trailed. "You would have to be blinded for a moment."

"Like a secret path?" Fang asked. She waved her hand disinterestedly. "Do as you wish. I have enough games. If this is what it takes to look for Vanille, then let's do this." She closed her eyes and they bound her with soft cloth. The company walked.

Fang never tripped. The ground was even in spite that they are still in the forest floor. The walk stretched for hours. They reached to a river but found no trouble for Fang to cross. She leaped easily at the prompt of its distance from each side. Her land still contained no stone. They walked. Finally, the company stopped and they lightly loosed their bind on her eyes. She opened them and the sight she saw made her breath short. This place is beautiful, like a dream and a beautiful thought of waking. They passed it slowly. There were so many… elves, Fang finally accepted, passing through the trees, stopping for a moment to watch them. Half were looking at Arwen, Fang included, and the other part looking at her curiously. The ascended a sort of stairs up to the largest and most magnificent tree. It rose and rose and for what it's worth, they reach the top and greeting them were a host of silver and gold robed elves and at the center two stood in the throne. The man had a fair and wise face, eyes gray and hair silver unlike the other Fang met. Upon his side stood a striking counter to the fairness of Arwen, golden hair glowing compared to the others. Her aura seemed more omniscient than the man. She simply watched Fang and remained silent.

They began to discuss of her, speaking in their tongue. She was given leave and freedom to wander, letting her rest her weariness and gather her thoughts. Days end on end went and by. The elves gave her food and lodging. Fang never remembered being so pampered all her life. She wasn't so hard to please with little luxuries unlike Vanille who is more into comfort so their treatment alone was heavenly.

Fang finally gave up counting the days of her stay. Everything is the same. It may be weeks, months, years, and her weariness is coming back, heightened all the more at the idleness. When will they decide to let her get away. She thought of escaping but she felt a power far deeper than her. Surely, they would help her right?

Her answer came one day when she was strolling along the forest. It was night. She passed the silver branch on her second turn when she saw Galadriel beckoning to her. She came. "Arwen shall leave here tomorrow. She shall depart to Imladris, her father's halls. I hear Elrond is keeping company of great host. I feel your friend is there."

So the next morning, Fang joined a host of elves, dark haired like Arwen about to depart. Fang mounted on her horse given by the servants and turned her attention to Arwen. "How long is the journey?"

"Two weeks," Arwen said. "We have all the time–"

"Love, I don't," Fang cut her beautiful voice. She quickly got off her horse. Arwen, curious at her actions, dismounted as well and sent her horse to her maids to shortly tend her beast. Fang offered her hand and smiled. "Do you trust me, Arwen?"

Arwen hesitated, not too sure what to make of this. Fang's composure told her to be cautious. Still… "Yes…?" she said before letting a little scream of surprise. Fang had grabbed her waist tight to her body. Arwen let a light flush of her cheeks at the proximity. What would Estel think of her predicament?

But before she could protest, Fang held her hand to her shoulder. Again. "Bahamut!"

A dragon out of nowhere appeared covering the two women. The elves hurriedly attempted to rescue their princess. They aimed their arrows but hesitated to shoot, for fear to hurt Arwen. The dragon spreads its wings. Fang mounted Bahamut, carrying her princess. "What do you intend to do?" Arwen asked, voice filled with panic, fear, and a bit of wonder. This woman could summon dragons. Dragons! Ai, Elbereth!

"I'm sorry love, but I really get worked up on pretty faces," Fang smirked and laughed in spite of herself. "We're going to Imladris flying in hours. Hold on tight," Fang's smug expression widened all the more as Arwen's grip on her waist tightened all the more, probably believing her. The beauty couldn't let go, they were already twenty feet above ground. She could go swinging to the trees for escape but the prospect of falling is simply out of question. "Arwen?"

"Hm?" she lightly asked, half shouting and whispering.

"Ever dreamed of flying?"

Arwen went silent. She did dreamt flying when she was a young elfling, carried by Ada Elrond and Amme Celebrian…

* * *

Elrohir finally managed to keep Vanille away from Erestor. The brothers had enough of history and etiquette from the scholar. Erestor would somehow teach Vanille after they are sent away. That was days ago now.

The company of elves from Mirkwood arrived late in the afternoon. There was a great exchange of courtesies and gifts and news. Elrond was there to welcome the host and warmly greeted the prince. They spoke long. Legolas never mentioned Fang.

The three were in the garden proper, yet unknown to the guests that arrived. Vanille was busy watching the flowers swaying with the wind. Elrohir was busy watching Vanille watch the flowers. Elladan… well, Elladan was watching them.

The brothers were in the middle of their singing when a great gush of wind enveloped the ever peaceful halls. Elladan got his sword ready. What is happening? Had the dark lord somehow turned the table completely and finally managed to pierce through his father's great magic?

"All right, coming through!"

A great shadow loomed in their spot and it descended from the sky. Elladan and Elrohir instantly saw it was a great beast. They pulled out their bows. Elrohir was about to shoot when Elladan cried in amazement. "Ai, Arwen!"

The dust settled. The dragon was nowhere in sight. Arwen was there, though disheveled at the great wind, still fine and well. She looked exhilarated and breathless and laughing that for a second Elladan was a bit jealous for her sister's experience. What would it have been like to fly?

Arwen wasn't alone though. In the settling cloud, a tall dark woman stood tall with spear in hand. Her hair was wild at the ride and her eyes piercing like her weapon. A long blue coat wrapped her body enough to cover her comfortably. Silence came upon them.

"Fang!" Vanille broke it and delight was in her voice.

"Took me long enough, huh?" The tall woman smirked.

* * *

_**A/N:** Now that one is finally posted. Chapter one is checked and revised. Please let me know any errors. Feedback of any kind is appreciated :)_


	3. You

**Chapter 3: You**

"You arrival is most pleasantly expected," Elrond smiled and extended his arms in welcome.

Legolas could not help but embrace the elf lord back. In a way, this has been his second home, the only other elf-land his father approve of trade. The place brought back old childhood years. "It is good to be back. My heart rejoices and sings at the hospitality," he replied happily and summoned his own host. "My people would love to accept your offer of rest–" the rest of his words were drowned at the screams of his people and Elrond's in fear. The elves look up as darkness enveloped the land in midday.

"Arwen!" Elrond shouted not believing what he saw completely. The elves stood petrified as their Evenstar flew with the seeming night. "Follow it! I want my daughter back," the host of elves at his side rushed to follow the moving mist of black. Few aimed arrows but was quickly stopped. The sight is dark and unsteady aim could harm their beloved lady. Elrond was with their company, running as he had never ran before the War of the Ring. Legolas followed suit.

It settled in the garden. When they arrived, no one expected such a scene. Arwen was there, safe and sound on the ground, flanked by her older brothers chatting away like nothing happened. When the three-company noticed their father and Legolas they smiled. "Ada!" Arwen called delightedly at the sight of her father. She rushed to his embrace.

"You are home," Elrond said, his tone both in relief and curious. "Tell me my eyes have not yet been deceived. When did you arrive and without my knowledge?"

His daughter smiled in wonder. "I flew Ada!" her voice was full of mirth and excitement that it drowned the worry of her people and her audience. "It is childish to act so, but Ada! Like eagles of my young dreams, I soared and kissed the sky and felt the sun's warmth like no other on the ground."

"But how Arwen?" Elrond's lips tugged into a small smile. His daughter was speaking like a young elfling again.

"Fang," Arwen replied mysteriously, like it was all the answer they needed.

"You?"

Elrond's attention turned sharply at the owner of the voice. It was woman, gaping incredulously. Her hair was tussled up like his daughter. For a moment, Elrond unconsciously hugged Arwen protectively at the woman's state. She looked dangerous.

"You…?" The voice came from behind. Elrond turned around and saw his guest prince staring in disbelief as well.

"You know each other, Legolas?" Elrond inquired. His voice was finally calm. He wanted explanation.

"It did not cross my mind her business could affect ours," Legolas bowed apologetically. "She is Lady Fang. She ended in our woods. We escorted her until Lothlorien but of her later tidings we cannot say."

"I could tell you that," the woman called Fang smirked, crossing her arms. "I stayed for who knows how long until they let me leave." She turned to Arwen and bowed. "So you enjoyed riding on Bahamut?"

"Is it his name? How very kingly. Yes lady Fang, I enjoyed it well," Arwen replied. "Peace Ada, she did not mean harm. I lost my host on Lothlorien."

"I perceive there is more tale than what you tell me child," Elrond sighed. "But I shall consent. My guests," He finally turned his attention to the wood elves. "Come and rest. I shall escort you to your rooms." They left, including Arwen. She waved a little good bye to his brothers and Fang before joining her father.

"We need to talk," Fang said, grabbing Vanille's hand.

Vanille only nodded at her friend and smiled reassuringly back to her last company. "I'll catch up later with you guys. _Le hannon_."

"Le what?" Fang asked.

"It is Sindarin for 'thank you'," Vanille replied and they continued their way out of the garden, Vanille leading Fang.

"So… what brings Lady Fang here? Is her friend heard in the halls of Imladris?" Legolas asked when they were all alone now.

"Do you mean our Lady Vanille?" Elladan asked. "Yes, but I'm afraid the young lady is more heard in the company of my father's councilor, often swept of her feet if I have a say on the matter."

"She is a delightful company," Elrohir said, paused as if to gauge what he just said, and nodded convinced. "I have not seen Master Erestor exclaim so many words since the day I asked him the tale of Beleriand… and that is saying something."

"Yes, I remember that," Elladan mused in agreement, "Ah, but your concerns, Prince Legolas, does not concern our guest. Tell me the tale of you and Lady Fang. I see you both have quite been comfortable with each other for her to drop your title entirely."

"I believe it is more of her character," Legolas said after he encountered in vague detail what happened. "She never addressed me or my father other than our names."

"That may be as well. Lady Vanille is always strained to call us formally, and seemed much more at ease when we told her it is not so big of a deal."

"Do you know where she comes from?" Elrohir asked. "They spoke of places so foreign in tongue. Oerba… where is it?"

"That has been the primary concern of my king," Legolas looked far as if watching for Fang to come out to hear him. He took a deep breath and gestured to sit. The three Ellyn made to the bench before Legolas continued. "Our tidings in our land is grieve and the shadow ever makes it way. We are wary of folks abroad, whether in number or alone. And then she comes…" he trailed and sighed, "Ai Elbereth, our people do not know what to make of it. King Thranduil perceived her strength and would prove a reckoned enemy should she be against us. She is dangerous and with a dragon at her steed," he shook his head. "The king saw it best to be rid of her but at the same time in watch of careful daze. We need to send her somewhere there is much more power."

There was silence. Then Elladan whispered, "And your father consented to Lothlorien? Forgive me, but ah–"

Legolas waved his hand in understanding. "I know there has been strain in our land."

"With Imladris bordering the middle line," Elrohir smiled. He was nudged by the elbow by his brother.

"Well… yes. But my father recognizes the power of the place. He trusts the Galadhrim can keep her put."

"Then she takes our sister from their very eyes and rode with her dragon," Elladan shook his head. "Ai, that is much thought to consider."

Elrohir was silent as the information sank. "Brother, am I only to wander what could our mysterious Vanille capable of calling?"

* * *

"You made me worry there missy," Fang crossed her arms.

"I had that effect on people," Vanille grinned.

Fang shook her head in defeat and smiled back. "That's good to hear. Though I have to say I don't have to worry after all," she smirked. "I can see you enjoy here."

Vanille laughed off her friend's comment. She had not much changed, albeit her clothes.

"So… why is Taejin's name are you not at me side?" Fang asked. "The last thing I remember before turning into crystal was holding your hand."

Vanille shook her head as if in defeat. "I don't know either. I just woke up then found myself in endless grassland and no sign of humanity." She recounted then her journey. Fang was silent as she listened. She had no idea what to make of it.

They had finally completed their focus. Hell, she even managed to put an end to the focus giving Fal'Cie. They are not bound L'Cie's anymore.

"… and they never let me go off!" Vanille exclaimed. "I am capable of fighting but will they believe me?"

What exactly is happening?

"Fang?"

Fang stopped in her thought. "Hm?" They looked at each other, silent in communicating. Fang broke the silence as she let out a frustrated groan. "This is just completely insane, Vanille. We're not in Pulse? Then where in Atomos are we? Some distant planet?" She pushed her spear hard to the ground and shook her head in disbelief. She paced back and fro.

Vanille went silent, afraid of what will her friend consider of doing. Fang is one to trust in decisions most of the times but there are moments when desperation hits her. The last time it did, they uncannily spurred two unwitting humans to L'Cie, jeopardized thousands of people's lives then managed to kill their higher beings.

Fang stopped and let out a sigh. Vanille held her breath, knowing what was to come. "Fang?"

"Vanille, we're going back."

* * *

"Now, explain."

Arwen sighed despite of herself, whether because the rush she felt at the sky still lingers or other reason one cannot tell. "Ada," she began, "Do not blame Lady Fang. Rather, take me responsible for the affair."

"Arwen Undomiel…"

"Oh," Arwen fell silent. She knew that tone of voice anywhere. Has it really gone too far? Elrond never used her full name except in times she… ah. "Forgive me, Ada. I shall then tell the tale of our ride to Imladris in full. We are to depart today and Lady Fang asked the distance of travel here. I replied it will be a count of few days. This answer proved to be ill to her it would seem. Lady Fang beckoned to me then to dismount. I consent, not knowing what was to come. She… took hold of me and carried me to her dragon. Peace I say! Peace for everything is not grave as it seems!" Arwen held her hand up in gesture.

She stared hard at her father, measuring him if she would continue. Elrond remained passive so she continued.

"I could have escaped with my host at my call. We are still in the borders of Lorien. I could have secured myself to the trees. Yet I felt a sense of good spirit in this woman at our short meeting. She asked me if I would like to fly with her and the idea is just so beautiful and magnificent that I… forgive me Ada, I have been rash but I take no regrets to fly on Lord Bahamut's steed."

"Ai iell, it has indeed been rash. Would your host know then where their Evenstar left? Have you secured them comfort the woman who took you meant no harm? She will be ill-entertained should she comes back to your grandmother's halls."

Arwen was silent as her reckless action took a toll on her. Her father is right. "Forgive me Ada… I have not foreseen such consequences."

Elrond walked toward his daughter and kissed her brow. "The intent is well, Arwen. I shall see your companion shall not suffer most to her and your actions." He turned to her thoughtful. "Today you depart from Lothlorien? I see travel is swift in air but to be here this fast...?" he shook his head, unable to imagine the feeling.

Arwen smiled and laughed, "Ai Ada, it is hard to think so but here I am, rushed to the crown of the sky and still the sound of the wind in my ear," she gently took her father's hands and turned more seriously and determined. "She has my greatest favor Lord Elrond. The mirth she gave is indescribable. She will have my grace and the Valar."

"So be it," Elrond said before dismissing her.

* * *

"Back?" Vanille's voice faltered. She had not been expecting this. What back? Back to Pulse? How will they ever accomplish that?

"I don't know anymore," Fang went to her and clasped her friend's shoulders. "This is just… Vanile, I'm tired with all the war. We had our own, twice for that, and we're at the very center of it. It's just that… it's unfair Vanille, all of it." She removed her hold to her and walked away a few steps in frustration. "If this is some sick joke of the Orphan I'll," she didn't finish the sentence. She sighed. "Look, never mind me. Let's meet your friends instead."

* * *

Everything settled in Imladris, if only enough to alleviate the tension brought by two certain foreigners. Vanille had been an easier tension, given that she consented for an elvish change of clothes and kept most to Erestor's (and Elrond's sons if they were there) company, continuing her growing knowledge to Middle Earth. Fang's presence was anything but that.

If Legolas would have noticed, he wouldn't point it out. The two women were silent when together and strained in conversation. Fang had been alone most of the time, in the borders of Imladris, watching distantly the passing days. She didn't take part on any meals, Vanille taking it to her most of the time and once by Arwen herself. The latter took more time than usual. The prince assumed the women talked of matters; of what it is he didn't pry.

Still, he at times found himself observing Fang more often. She is still the Fang he met in Mirkwood, strong in character and proud in stance. He would often see her too arguing with Elladan and his host of elves and occasionally of Rangers, not taking her in their patrols and hunt. It amused him to an extent how would this female warrior, tired of this treatment, finally decide to take on her own hands in dealing this, much like how she fared in Mirkwood.

Then his thoughts would go to the younger lady, Vanille.

Legolas never saw the woman fight, acting more like an elleth in her learning years, always curious to the world. He did saw her as well arguing with Elrond's sons to take her but she accepts their rejection more freely. When Fang would threaten with her spear, Vanille would simply pout and tell them 'she did offer her service'. Still, they are companions and closest to themselves. He wouldn't doubt one bit the young lady is capable of fighting as well.

It was on their fifth day of stay in Imladris Legolas finished his regular council with Elrond when he was suddenly approached by Fang. "Exactly what is your problem stalking me like that?"

The tone was demanding and would there be any other for company, it could have been all too misinterpreted. Legolas frowned. This woman has definitely never recognized authority. "Lady Fang, I–"

"Have every right to that since I have been considered a potential threat and under probation to my people blah blah blah," Fang cut, imitating a nobleman's tone on a mere peasant. Legolas stiffened considerably. He would have dealt her earlier had she had not been an opposite gender, terms of conduct and all. Then she smiled. "I'm right, huh? Great. You would be an excellent proof I am quite capable of fighting."

"What?" Legolas never finished his say on the matter as Fang grabbed his hand and proceeded to the outer gardens.

* * *

Elladan did a double check on his pack. Behind him were his brother and a team of Rangers and elves ready to scout the north. The orc activity had grown dramatically. The dwarves are expected to arrive late in the afternoon and Elladan had no desire making more inconvenience to any.

"We are ready to depart, my lords," Halbarad approached, tailed by his horse.

Elladan nodded in acknowledgement and mounted gracefully his horse. Elrohir followed suite and their group. Two other rangers would follow the elf-lords to Bruinen, while the rest would divide in three more groups and cover the northern path, most likely to where the dwarves would go.

"Hold up!"

Elrohir turned and was still surprised it was Fang he heard and saw. The woman never learned to give up. Vanille had consented but–

"Prince Legolas?" Elladan was genuinely surprised. He had his notions the two had their own casual relationship but for her to practically drag the prince of Mirkwood…. He turned sideways to see Elrohir grinning. "Is something of the matter, brother?"

"Ah forgive me brother," Elrohir said as he spared a glance to Elladan. "I simply find the site of a certain Evenstar in her elfling years dragging another certain golden elf lord to let her ride Asfaloth." He dismounted his horse and met with the two. "To what we have that Prince Legolas and Lady Fang seek our company?"

Fang nudged Legolas by the elbows. Legolas stared at her hard, incredulous at the turning of events.

Halbarad bit back a smile behind his lords. This is something he wanted to watch.

"My lady, I will not be forced to act upon things unheard of," Legolas said as he turned to Fang. He is going to keep his ground no matter what.

Fang ignored him and instead smiled confidently at Elrohir. "I challenge the strength of Imladris. Mirkwood seems to not satisfy me."

Elladan finally approached the company. "Forgive me my lady but best to leave this at the next opportunity. Our time is short and we must leave immediately."

"Now brother, let us not be rash," Elrohir said, clearly enjoying Legolas' addition to the usual argument. "Lady Fang claims she is capable of fighting even in Mirkwood. I recognize the forest's dangers," he bowed to Legolas as if in apology to his wordings.

"We are pressing late," Elladan frowned. "We have no luxury of an hour to prove her strength."

Fang replied by swiftly walking to the borders of Imladris. She shot her hand up in the air. From her palm blasted a single silver energy. In an instant, a roaring sound erupted and blasted a wide radius. The mist dissolved and she was there, standing more proud than she was.

Legolas sighed, defeated. "I'm afraid you have to take her my lords. She threatened me she'll tear this gate apart if I would not utter in her stead. I will not have another burnt spot in a place I hold dear. Mirkwood is enough."

The host grew quiet. She had been rash, but the power she possessed cannot be disregarded, along with her stubborn temper.

Elrohir suddenly laughed. "Ah, ease I say. She has good intents, or my sister is ill-begotten of foresight. Come Lady Fang, have a horse you please. You shall be in my group to Bruinen. A friend of lady Vanille surely must be a great company like her."

The scouts were swift and it was fortunate Fang had her own experience in Oerba patrolling their lands from feral creatures. The brother's were inhumanely efficient of track and signs that Fang was more in tow with the two Rangers. Still, she is not a complete luggage. She fended off most of the encounters way before it turned to an open battle. Given the elf lord's deadly skill with bows and the Rangers and Fang's relentless attacks, it was easy.

Fang didn't switch to any of her roles and happily accommodated Commando. It suited enough on this simple hunt. Showing of her Saboteur and Sentinel skills is plainly prideful.

By late in the afternoon, they made such a good progress they were already heading back. Fang scoffed to herself. This is way too easy. She really had been itching to get outside and the reality of such weak creatures dismayed her.

As they finally arrived back to Imladris, Arwen was by the gate. Elrohir smiled and quickly dismounted his horse and came to greet his sister. He stopped meters away as he realized her eyes were fixed someone behind her back. Did she want to greet his older brother first? Elrohir looked back.

"Miss me?" Fang was behind him, grinning madly from ear to ear. Elrohir had to raise his brow in disbelief. Arwen came to her and warmly embraced Fang in welcome.

"You are most missed," Arwen said. She turned to Elrohir and smiled. "Well met brother Elrohir." She came to him and offered her arms in welcome.

Elrohir embraced back. Arwen smelled deeply of cloth. She was probably embroidering beforehand. "Well met indeed sister. Ah, but I feel you have more love to our new friend."

"Then I shall kiss you to show you have my devoted love," Arwen laughed back and kissed his brow. "What of news you gathered?"

"We have no new news of Estel," Elladan finally came and embraced his sister. Arwen went silent. She had been expecting any news of him. Her brother smiled reassuringly. "It is not so dark, sister. He is the best Ranger I have met. I am assured he will come out of this errand well and swift. Now here, lady Fang does not boast. She is a force indeed. I will be weary should I have to contest against her. I am glad we took her." He drifted his eyes further to Imladris and laughed. "It seems more hosts are here to welcome us."

"Master Erestor, well met!" Elrohir laughed as Erestor approached, followed closely by Vanille. Elrohir smiled and bowed. "Well met as well, Lady Vanille."

"Well met Elrohir," Erestor said.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you're going with them," Vanille pouted at Fang. "I really wanted to go outside!"

Fang simply laughed. "You'll have your time, I'm sure missy."

Vanille's frown quickly faded. "Fine. At least you're smiling now. Let's head inside. Dinner's almost ready."

Fang looked back at her friend bemused at her words. Fang shook her head in defeat, gave her friend a light smile and joined with them.


	4. When Things Settles

**Chapter 4: When Things Settles…**

The days passed all too quickly to Vanille. If she could simply close her eyes and pretend a bit, she could feel the summer breeze slowly fading to autumn, the children's echoing laughter outside, the ruckus Michael and Fang were making…

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She couldn't pretend. The memories will fade completely. Vanille kept them as the most precious things when everything around her didn't so much concern Cocoon or the Fal'Cie. They were slipping away, starting from when she awoke from crystal stasis and met Lightning, bit by bit.

Cocoon had been a new home. They were a new family, to love and protect. Then when everything seems to be finally over… Vanille let a heavy sigh escape her lips. Fang was right: this is just too much.

"Vanille!"

Vanille looked up as Fang's voice shot just outside her room. She beamed instantly, the brooding mood quickly fading. "Coming!" she replied as she hurriedly slip on her clothes and made her way outside.

* * *

Everything fell quickly into a routine. The two women would go down for breakfast along with Legolas' company. Erestor would enter after to pick Vanille up with her apparent regular lessons in Sindarin. Fang never understand why Vanille would even take another language, but left it at that; if that could keep her friend happy then so be it. This went on for hours, deep in conversation and soft laughter thrown at irregular intervals. Sometimes, Elrond would be there to give more advice, though it was always brief since his presence is always asked in the regular councils. Still, the two elf lords grew rather fond on their new foster responsibility.

Fang meanwhile would occupy her mornings with the Prince of Mirkwood sparring, occasionally with Arwen watching the match. The results were even, sometimes Legolas winning and others Fang took. Fang always delivered the hardest blows but Legolas was quicker and attacked more relentlessly.

When Elladan and Elrohir are present, they would join as well, Legolas teaming up with Fang. This, Elrohir and Elladan always wins. Not only had they known each other's tactics so well, but also Legolas and Fang's unending bickering. No way would Fang go to support mode for Legolas and neither was the prince willing as well. They would attack separately, Fang going after Elrohir. This would always end up disastrous. Still, after more match, the partners got better. Legolas learned to coordinate his attacks after Fang's blows and Fang reluctantly let herself switch to her Sentinel to defend both herself and Legolas.

Lunch comes next, this time often accompanied with the whole host of Imladris. At the arrival of the dwarf lords, Fang and Vanille were immediately introduced to them. They were therefore included in the table as well, usually beside Fang and the occasional Rangers coming in and out of patrol. The younger dwarves were particularly interested with Fang as she recounted battle tactics and assaults that happened in Oerba. The older generation, composed mostly of dwarf lords, meanwhile was sat next to Vanille, gallantly retelling the old days and the splendor of their halls glistening with gems and jewels. Vanille intently listened and praised the beautiful structure.

"I wish I could at least see them once," Vanille commented.

"When the dark times pass, you are most welcome," Gloin bowed until his beard almost touched the ground. "Though the splendor of the new would not surmount the glory of the old, to see it still is enough."

"Master dwarf, I see you are smitten by our pupil as well," Erestor came and bowed. "Lady Vanille is a lover of lore." He turned to Vanille and smiled. "Ah, but you have not told of your land child."

"I did too," Vanille replied. "With Elladan and Elrohir when they took me here and–"

"… and I tell you, thirty they killed and fell," Gimli nodded solemnly, sitting next to Fang. "A great battle less accounted than the rest, though its valor should not be overlooked."

"Aye, 'tis is true," another dwarf agreed.

After lunch, the dwarves and Fang were finally introduced to their last acquainted guest, Bilbo Baggins. Vanille met the old hobbit before when she was touring with Erestor. She introduced him to Fang. "So this is your young friend?" Bilbo said as he studied carefully Fang. "Well met indeed my lass. Here, have a cake and tea."

Fang declined the offer, overwhelmed at the food supply.

They spent the afternoon together, simply enjoying each other's company. At times they would have small conversations, about the weather, the elves, and this place. Fang was mostly quiet as Vanille would recount all that she learned from the morning. They never delved the future and even the present. It was too painful and mind boggling, especially for Fang.

Still, her anxiety was never solitary. Vanille was equally curious. So it was one time she voiced this to her teacher. "Will you tell me a story?"

They were having those regular lessons. Erestor glanced back at his pupil and smiled. "What would you like to hear, Lady Vanille?"

"Something about… the first story," she answered. "You know those 'in the beginning' stuff."

Erestor paused, as if gathering his thoughts how to start. "There are many beginnings: Of Eru Illuvatar, of the Ainur, Valar and Maia, of Time, of Arda, Of the Eldar, the Edain, this Age... Ai," he shook his head and looked thoughtful. "Tell me what beginning you would like to hear."

"The first," Vanille said.

"Very well," Erestor sat beside her. "I shall tell the tale, though I fear our lessons will be abandoned for a time. No matter," he smiled reassuringly. "All I said before was not raised interest, given because it is simply appropriate to know. Curiosity of the living will never be completely satisfied but, my lady, let me lessen it considerably." He took a deep breath before starting.

"In the beginning, there was Eru, whom we now call Illuvatar. From him came great spirits, each with their own design, beauty, knowledge, and will. He gathered them and told them to make a Great Music." So then Erestor for four days narrated the beginning years. Each day, Vanille grew more silent in thoughts on her and Fang's walks in the gardens.

* * *

It was on the fifth day Vanille and Fang finally caught a glimpse of the other silent guest. Of when he came here, neither knew. They spotted him conversing deeply with Elrond. Fang paused to watch the two before Elrond paused and looked to her direction. Their eyes caught for a moment. The elf lord showed no sign of surprise or acknowledgement. By dinner, the stranger appeared at the table and greeted the two.

"Times are more curious in this Age. Never have I looked upon the eyes of a mortal and felt a calling of a distant land," he said and bowed. "I am Gandalf, well met." He raised and Vanille could swear his eyes twinkled like sparks of fire.

"Fang," Fang said then gestured to her friend. "And this is Vanille."

"You're the elf lord talking to Bilbo earlier," said Vanille. "I saw you before going to lunch."

"Sharp eye I say Lady Vanille. But Master Gandalf is a wizard," Elrond said as he walked towards them, "A master of lore and magic."

"I do admit I have been assumed as such more so than the other," Gandalf smiled gently. "But you must remember my lady Elves do not age and time does them little in appearance."

"You mean they're immortal?" Fang raised her brow. She looked at Elrond in surprise. "How may I ask are you related to Arwen?"

"Her father," Elrond smiled. "Ai, I have forgotten Vanille's impression. Forgive me, I believe I have not introduced myself properly, my lady. It proves most rude to the host in neglecting to formally welcome his guests. I am Elrond, lord of Imladris, father of Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen Undomiel. Well met, I say!"

There was an awkward silence as Fang stood stunned at the revelation. Elrond looked… well, young to father three grown adults. Vanille giggled suddenly. "I know Fang. It's hard to believe."

Fang snorted, recovering her stance. "Tell me about it."

* * *

"You didn't know?"

Fang blocked Elladan's assaults and retaliated with two Vendettas and did a Blitz to back up Legolas' unsuccessful attacks at Elrohir.

Legolas frowned and said, "I believe I told you once I am the son of King Thranduil."

"Yeah, but your old man could really pass as your father," Fang replied. "Elrond, however, looks young enough to pass as Elladan's older brother."

The two did a defensive stance, Legolas at her back to handle the brother's simultaneous blows and Fang doing her Steelguard. They were failing miserably again with the dynamic duo (along with Fang's deadpan sarcasm as she says it). Elladan and Elrohir, now noticing Fang and Legolas were finally on terms, got more serious and vicious.

"My father does not look old," Legolas said, "Nor is he a Secondborn."

"Prince… old man means father," Fang rolled her eyes. This guy is hopeless. Everyone knew that term in Pulse.

Elrohir laughed at the two's antics. That, and the fact that Fang always calls Legolas 'Prince' and never his name. Elladan knew how much Legolas disliked being called that. He himself didn't like being addressed as 'my lord' from his close Ellyn friends. Elvish sensibilities, especially at the Homely House of Imladris, always entail endearment. And though he could never really call Fang's relationship anything endearing to Legolas, she still became a close person to the elf.

"You know, Legolas here is quite a young ellon," Elrohir mused while blocking his opponent's incoming arrows with his sword. "He really does pass as the son of Mirkwood's king with his appearance alone. Ai, I remember when he was but a mere elfling…" he trailed and grinned widely.

"Mellon, I am past 700 years," Legolas said, "that is not so much considered as young even on our standards."

"Yes, but I'm well over three thousand years," Elrohir laughed. His eyes glinted at Fang and smiled genuinely this time. "But of course, our lady sees it not so."

Fang took this cue to smirk. "I'm turning 522 if you must know." She jumped high in the air and did Highwind.

Elladan, always at the front of the two in attacks, barely managed to dodge it. He staggered behind while Elrohir took the lead this time. The older lord looked hard at Fang. There was no lie in her eyes. "My lady, where do you hail? Who are you really?"

It was Elrohir who answered his tone with reverence, "Lady Fang, from the village of Oerba, a land of Gran Pulse." Then he laughed lightly, "Surely, such a place would contest to the mystic lands of Valinor itself."

"… I'm still older than you," Legolas whispered behind Fang. Fang laughed, earning her quizzical looks from the other two.

"Fine; But you have to tell me why you guys keep calling each other fruits. I can't see any resemblance of Arwen likened anything to a melon."

* * *

It was a week after Fang's arrival when Glorfindel finally returned. A man and four hobbits were with him, one unconscious and deathly still. Gandalf, Elrond, and a good number of ellyth rushed towards them, swiftly tending first the fallen hobbit. One hobbit anxiously followed the host while the remaining two, the man, and the elf stayed. The man and the elf quietly discussed with Gandalf of their tidings and stories. Gandalf's expression grew serious and often he nodded whenever the man paused as if to reassess the wizard's reaction. Gandalf's hard expression did not waver and the man continued with fewer pauses.

Glorfindel quietly dismissed himself. Estel would handle the rest. He gently escorted the two hobbits out. It was this time he saw Vanille and Erestor conversing with each other. Erestor noticed him first and beckoned him to come. Vanille turned sideways and waved at Glorfindel. The three were instantly with the two.

"Well met Lord Glorfindel. Pray tell comforting news," Erestor said, "Elrond and his host of healers were at the infirmary where I and Vanile are conveniently before."

"Someone's carrying a hobbit," Vanille said anxiously. "I hope he's all right."

"He's fighting hard, Mister Frodo that is," piped one hobbit, "he will get better. He just has to."

"They are his friends, loyal and true as they prove with their folk," Glorfindel said answering Vanille's curious glance. "Well met Lady Vanille! May I introduce my company; here is Master Meriadoc Brandybuck and Master Peregrin Took, all respectable gentle hobbits from the Shire."

"Just Merry," the hobbit named Meriadoc bowed. "It's a pleasure to meet an elf lady like yourself, Lady Vanille."

"And Pippin," Peregrin grinned. "We're not much for titles, given with our humble homes compared to this," he looked equally entranced as Vanille first held her eyes at Imladris.

"Well met indeed Master Pippin and Master Merry," Erestor smiled and made a small bowing gesture. "Those are fair words indeed Master Merry, but Lady Vanille here is not an elleth, though she could pass as one," Erestor mused.

Vanille blushed lightly. "Er, thanks." Then she remembered something. "By any chance you know any Bilbo Baggins then? He's a hobbit too."

"Mister Bilbo!" Merry exclaimed, genuinely surprised and pleased at the news. "We should see him quickly! Come Pip," He grabbed Pippin's hand then looked politely at Vanille. "If it's no bother miss–"

"I'd be happy to visit Bilbo," Vanille smiled reassuringly. "He's probably having his late tea time." The hobbits cheered at the prospect of tea and snacks, earning them laughter from the three. Vanille excused herself from the presence of the two elf lords and joined the two hobbits to Bilbo's room.

* * *

"It is indeed fortunate you arrive no later," Elrond said as he quickly approached them, "a few more moments would prove fatally ill to our hobbit friend. He was nearly succumbed to the darkness."

"Frodo has an exceptionally strong willpower," Aragorn explained. "For over a week he bore great labor."

"Indeed, hobbits are tough folks," Gandalf nodded, "Valar protect them."

"Estel!" Elrohir's voice rang through the air as he and his brother spotted the man and hurriedly went to greet him.

"Well met Estel," Elladan said laughed grandly. "You look terrible as always."

"Days in the woods do this to a Ranger," Aragorn replied, a bit miffed. There's danger abroad and all his foster brother could say is his appearance?

Elrohir laughed. "Peace Estel, we jest. Forgive us, our scouts had been idler as of late and will not resume regular activity well after three more days."

"Though that partly has been our Fang's involvement," mused Elladan.

"Fang?" Aragorn asked.

"A guest of my house," Elrond replied, "A great warrior as my sons claim and a friend of Legolas."

"That indeed proves fortunate," Aragorn smiled. "I would like to meet this warrior for gaining favor from this lordly hall."

"Our sister is with Fang right now," Elrohir offered, "Though you have to wait for a while. Their talks always tend to be long."

"You would think they're planning for their betrothal," Elladan smiled helplessly. Arwen is certainly occupied with the Pulsian warrior.

Meanwhile, Aragorn got a horrible impression. "Excuse me my lords, I must leave you for my own affairs." He quickly left the company and disappeared from plain sight.

"Estel has more pressing matters than worrying for Arwen," Elrond sighed at his sons.

Elladan grinned. "Forgive me Ada, but I cannot help but jest my young mortal brother." He looked at his brother and they shared in with their laughter.

Elrond shook his head albeit amused. The four walked back to the halls of Imladris to discuss further with Glorfindel and Erestor.

* * *

Aragorn was never really the type of man to get overprotective with his loved ones. He commands respect and prove himself to be a very respectable Ranger and Dunadain to his people. He's a complete gentleman on councils and sees most things with a clear head.

He just didn't like how Elladan phrased Arwen's contact with this new elf. Apparently, this Legolas' friend never heard Arwen and his tale, or simply he ignored it. He wasn't the first one though. Many past suitors of his beloved were quite surprised at Arwen decision. He had, admittedly, been not the most beloved on the eyes of Arwen's many Galadhrim suitors, no matter how much they treat him nicely.

And now…

Aragorn knew all of Arwen's spots since they themselves conversed there intimately. He arrived at one and surely enough saw Arwen heading back to her room, probably finished with her conversation with this Fang.

"Oh, excuse me," a woman brushed passed him.

Aragorn nodded disinterestedly at her and continued to Arwen's direction. Not long after, he caught up with Arwen. "Undomiel?"

"Estel!" Arwen looked equally surprised and pleased to see him. She warmly embraced him and kissed his brow. "Well met Mellon nin. When did you arrive?"

"Not long ago. Glorfindel was with me," Aragorn looked strained. He wanted to skip this formality and directly ask her who this friend of Legolas is.

Arwen seemed too distracted to notice his anxiety. "I see. That is fortunate." She smiled lovingly at him and stayed in his arms. "Come and have rest. Your journey must be weary." She made a motion to go.

But Aragorn would not have it pass. "Undomiel, there is something I must ask about you."

"What is it Estel?"

"I trust your love Mellon nin," Aragorn said, "We plighted our troth and exchanged our vows. But ah, how shall I put this mellon nin? You're beautiful beyond compare and past suitors were not entirely pleased with–" he paused and examined her face. She was smiling.

"It seems I have offended my love to you," Arwen said. "Tell me what upsets you, for I have not met any elf lord or noble man to sway me."

Yes, but then there's Legolas' friend… "What of this warrior named Fang then? Your brothers claim he has gained your favor of utmost terms." Aragorn left Elladan's quote of betrothal later. He certainly didn't want to look desperate.

Arwen laughed. "Ai Estel, most beloved of my life! What you heard is true, for indeed Fang gained my highest favor. But it seems my brothers forgot something to mention to you," Her eyes twinkled in amusement. "Fang is a she Estel, a most accomplished warrior and dragon tamer I met. I believe you must have passed her when you went here. She is dark skinned and wore a blue cloth around her body." Arwen continued to smile and waited for his answer.

Aragorn's mind reeled a few minutes back. It was that time he finally remembered the woman he bumped into earlier fit the same description.

"… Oh," Aragorn barely managed to say. Arwen laughed again.

* * *

"They're quite a sight, are they?"

"These kinds also grow at Oerba."

"Oerba must be fair indeed. These flowers only grow on elven halls."

"It was fair."

"Was?"

"It was destroyed along with its people."

"… I'm sorry."

Fang didn't reply and continued to stare at the garden patch. These were wild flowers in her world, and they all lead to her village. To see it planted and held in place with no direction seemed all too unnatural. These will not lead her home, not in a million leagues as she could spare.

Legolas sat beside her, humming a faint tune that recalls the tales of Beleriand. However, his mind was not entirely occupied with the song. A part of it wonders how the destruction of Oerba came about. Was she and Lady Vanille only survived? They must have been kept away by their gods, preserved for five centuries, explaining this woman's age.

'And then she tells me she waged war with their gods, the Fal'Cie, and won?' Legolas thought.

"You're thinking about me, aren't you?" Fang turned her attention to him.

"You did not tell me everything."

"I'm not obligated to, Prince."

Legolas sighed. "My lady, these are dangerous times and those who hail from foreign and distant lands are taken with utmost caution. King Thranduil gave me leave to know you fully and truly so that fair judgment will be passed."

"Or else?"

"You shall be treated like any trespasser, a threat to one's borders."

Fang scoffed. "Like that stopped me. Listen, there's a really good reason for that so you just have to trust me. Will you?"

They looked at each other and held each other's gaze to test the other's will. Legolas didn't answer but the look he gave to her was well enough. The dinner bell rang throughout the halls. They went together.

* * *

They were all there, eating and conversing with each other casually. Vanille sat beside Elrohir and Erestor as the two argued about the correct detailed story about the Last Alliance of Men and Elves.

Pippin, Merry and Bilbo were next to Erestor and were telling Bilbo the tales as they reached here. They had another new company who was introduced as Samwise Gamgee of simply Sam. He was noticeably quiet and ate less compared to his hobbit friends. Gandalf sat opposite beside Sam, gently encouraging him to eat and be at ease for Frodo who have not joined their supper, still bed ridden and unconscious.

The company of dwarves sat beside Gandalf and they were recounting their journey and tales once more to the Rangers present.

Fang sat next to these men and were arguing with Elladan about battle tactics. Legolas sat next to them and tried to avoid their conversation, not very pleased with the prospect of having to argue with them both. He disagreed with both of their points but he didn't want to suffer the wrath of either elf lord of this woman.

Elrond sat at the head of the table, flanked by Arwen who sat beside the host of elves along with Elrohir, and Aragorn on the other side. The two were talking quietly and every now and then, Elrond would join in the conversation.

Had Fang or Vanille would exit there and watch the scene as a whole, they would have cried. It was very much like Oerba and their people. It was a one big happy family.

* * *

Night came.

"Do you think we could have another new family?"

Vanille watched the night sky by her room. Fang was with her, lying on Vanille's bed and staring at the ceiling. Fang didn't answer her. "I'm heading back," Fang said as she got out the sheets and headed for the door. "Good night."

Vanille nodded. "See you tomorrow Fang."


	5. You can't argue with fate here

**Chapter 5: You Can't Argue with Fate Here**

Three days passed. Nothing really much progress besides the lessons, and spars, and the more regular scouts. Fang didn't participate with the latter anymore, as she spent more time with Vanille, Arwen, or alone on her own. Legolas filled her spot, getting weary to the peaceful atmosphere of Imladris. It's not that he didn't like the peace but he was raised as a warrior as well and the prospect of getting outside and into the woods was more than welcome on occasion. Aragorn joined them as well, serving as the leader on one group of Rangers. Arwen watched them go and heard the coming silence as the horses' hooves fade away.

"There's nothing wrong in crying."

Arwen nodded at Fang and smiled sadly. "That is true. One cannot know when you will see them last… whether this farewell would not be repeated."

"Yeah…" Fang grew quiet. She turned back and started to walk away. Arwen slowly followed, glancing back for a moment at the trail before completely heading inside.

"Fang, Lady Arwen," Vanille greeted them. She bowed lightly at the Elleth then grinned at Fang. "Bilbo said he would start reciting his piece. Pippin and Merry are already there."

Fang shook her head. "I cannot believe I'm resigned once more to hearing these. It's like the Seers all over again."

Arwen laughed. "Master Bilbo is more accomplished than most mortals. His pieces would be most remembered in Imladris. It is not so bad."

Fang sighed. "Fine, but don't expect me to keep awake the whole afternoon."

Fang didn't slept through it, though she wasn't really there the whole time Bilbo was reciting.

They were having tea and cake, much as the meal for elevenses prompts. The hobbits claimed they always have one back at their home, the Shire, though Fang and Vanille weren't much surprised given with the Hobbits' appetite. Bilbo was at his fourth verse when Pippin suddenly chuckled. It was probably some inside joke since Merry was grinning as well. But Pippin was holding the teapot and about to pour some for Fang that his wobbly grip let loose unceremoniously at the woman. Fang cringed at the sudden burning sensation at her exposed thigh. Though the tea wasn't boiling hot anymore and certainly Fang experienced much more pain when she's tossed by Behemoths, her skin still protested angrily at her lack for reflex.

Everything happened so surreal. Vanille and Arwen were immediately fussing over her, Pippin apologizing furiously, and Merry and Bilbo lightly scolding at the young hobbit's clumsiness. Fang shook her head reassuringly. "I'm fine. Just a minor first degree burn, I'll live."

"I'm sure it is Lady Fang," Arwen said, frowning slightly. "But that still needs medical attention." She stood up and offered her hand. "It would greatly ease my anxiety if you would come to be checked."

"Seriously?" Fang looked at her helplessly. She stared at Vanille for any objections at Arwen's ridiculous proposal. She inwardly groaned as Vanille nodded in agreement to the Elven princess. She sighed in defeat. "All right missy. Lead the way."

Arwen took Fang alone to the infirmary and briefed the healers there on the situation. She made a little bow and told them that she'll be at Bilbo's room when they would like to see her before leaving Fang with them. Fortunately, the elves didn't so much fussed about Fang and quickly tended to her. However, they deemed her tea-soiled clothes would not do any good for her. So Fang watched in disbelief as her clothes left her to be replaced by something else.

It was one of the common dresses she saw an Elleth would put on. Vanille had a similar set, though greatly remade due to her stature. This one was not retouched, given she is as tall as any of them and had similar physique. Fang put it on and made an involuntary shudder at the new clothes hugging her body. It had been a really long while since she last wore a proper dress. Mass production wasn't common in Gran Pulse unlike her glimpse at Cocoon's supplies. Everything back at Oerba was hand stitched by tailors and seamstresses. Both she and Vanille made their own clothes. Long skirts were particularly hard to make and materials are always scarce that dresses are considered a luxury to have. Fang had only one set back and the only time she remembered wearing it was when…

Fang approached the nearby mirror and examined herself. She couldn't recognize the reflection, not without her own clothes. She smiled at the silly knowledge she kept that her image was more associated with her clothes than her face.

They soon stopped attending to her, since obviously it really just a minor burn. They told her she would get her clothes back after a few days when they finished washing it. This, Fang grew uncomfortable and insisted to wash her own clothes instead. Back at Oerba, people wash their own clothes. So the elves instructed her to head to the river by the following day for washing, giving her clothes back and bidding her a good day.

First, Fang headed back to her room. She kept her clothes safely beside the bed before leaving. She was about to head back to the company when she stopped at halfway down her path. She was at the main corridor when she paused at the man standing by the wall, examining the murals painted. Fang never saw him before. The man noticed her presence and looked completely surprised at her company.

Fang crossed her arms. "I don't believe we met." The man looked perplexed at her cocky tone. Fang stopped the urge to roll her eyes. Man, this place is as ancient as it gets. "Fine, we'll do courtesy. I'll go first. The name's Fang, you?"

The man seemed to recover his composure. He smiled in the most gentlemanlike manner. "Boromir, son of Denethor ruling Steward of Gondor. I come here to seek council from Master Elrond, not three days ago." He bowed low. "Forgive me, my lady, it is just I have not seen a fair maiden such as you. To where would you be heading?"

Fang opened her mouth to answer but was stopped as loud shouts erupted somewhere out their current halls.

"Frodo! Mister Frodo is awake!"

* * *

Vanille followed the two hobbits speeding towards the infirmary. Arwen stayed behind, keeping company the old hobbit as he chuckled in relief. "That is Frodo my lad, all right! A good sturdy hobbit, if I may say so!"

A hobbit was there, lying comfortably at one of the many beds occupying a large part of the room. Another hobbit was with him and it looked like he was the one shouting in mirth at the good news. Gandalf was with them, smiling and his eyes holding a bright twinkle. Vanille felt herself smile at the peaceful scene. Pippin and Merry were laughing. This is so much like Oerba.

"Come, come now, we must not leave introductions at the latest opportunity," Gandalf said looking at Vanille. "My dear Frodo, Masters Took and Brandybuck seem to have made a new friend and company for their tea time."

The one not lying approached Vanille and shyly bowed. "Forgive me miss, I believe I haven't introduced myself properly, being with mister Frodo and all. I don't think last time's dinner introduction was satisfactory. I never remember dinner introductions myself. I'm Samwise Gamgee at your service."

"Well met Master Samwise," Vanille smiled warmly. "I do remember you. I'm Vanille."

"Just Sam, thank you," Sam looked flustered at the high title.

Vanille approached the company closer and sat beside Frodo's bed. "It's good that you're all right now, Master Frodo. Everyone is worried about you."

"Thank you Lady Vanille," Frodo barely managed a smile.

"Just Vanille."

"Frodo."

Bells suddenly rang. Pippin cheered. "I guess it's time for luncheon. Frodo, you certainly know when to wake up on time."

Frodo laughed. "It certainly seems so. All this sleeping gives me a lot of appetite." He slowly got up, assisted heavily by Sam.

The hobbits hurried as fast as Frodo can cope outside the room, followed by Vanille and Gandalf not far behind.

"It seems that you take interests on the little people," Gandalf smiled knowingly at her.

"They reminded me of home," Vanille replied. She always finds the old wizard someone she knew long ago. He's like one of Oerba's seers who tell her favorites stories about Pulse.

"And like home, you do everything in your power to preserve it," Gandalf said. Vanille grew silent. Gandalf stopped walking and looked directly at her. He smiled sadly. "You do not need to tell me your burden." Then it looked grave. "Child, we all carry our own weight to the world. But Arda, middle-earth, might not be so different from yours."

"I…" Vanille barely whispered. Why is whenever she thinks of home it hurts? "It's gone now. No use running away," she smiled sadly at the memory. She's fed up with running and now she wasn't sure if she was running to anything nor facing anything.

"Maybe it's for the best to let go."

"Yeah… maybe…"

* * *

Boromir watched Fang walk away and head to this Frodo's chamber.

He was pretty sure he met this woman before although he can't quite place exactly when. It's certainly here in Rivendell–

Of course!

_It had been a hard journey. Travelling on foot on some elven place is hard business, already naturally hidden in some forest and then somehow enchanted to ward of most feral creatures. Since he lost his horse, this whole quest had gone bitterer. The comfort he had before was long gone in memory._

_So when he arrived in Rivendell, at night, he found the homely house a haven. Hosts of fair faced elves escorted him to his room. He took a proper bath, got formally dressed and proceeded to ask for Master Elrond's presence. He knew he wouldn't get an audience at this untimely hour but at least he made known his existence. But for the time being, he headed outside his quarters to have a private dinner for himself and settle for the night._

_The next day, he found himself sleeping beyond the morning. He must have been so weary. After washing up, he found a servant and was briefed he is to be expected at Master Elrond's study later in the afternoon. He thanked the maid and decided to explore the place. He arrived at some time at the same corridor he was in now. The murals were unbelievable and felt so alive. He examined closely the intricate details before being interrupted._

_There was a loud noise just outside. Boromir's warrior instinct told him there is a fight going on. He instantly got excited. He hadn't been fighting for some time now and the prospect of sparring is good enough. He followed the commotion quite easily._

_That's when he first saw her, garbed in her own clothes and spear in hand._

_Her muscles flexed at each blow from her opponent, a golden haired Ellon with a majestic sword in hand. They were equal of strength but Boromir knew the elf was more superior in skill. His stance was smoother and more perfect. But that's not to say the woman was without chance in winning. She had a spear, not a sword, so her thrust stance was more appropriate for her weapon._

"_I can see why Elladan is so eager for me to meet you. You are a fine warrior."_

_The woman snorted, "Tell that when we finally land a successful blow."_

_The man laughed. "Aye, that is true." He attacked again, sending numerous slashes at her. The woman blocked them all, maneuvering her weapon efficiently. She managed to dodge the last hit. She bent low, collapsing her stand to reach the ground, did a round kick and shot her spear directly over the elf's head. He barely managed to block the weapon and dodge the untimely blow. He still landed neatly a few feet away though._

"_Lord Glorfindel." Boromir watched as the elf turned around at the mention of his name. Boromir followed Glorfindel's line of sight and immediately saw the same servant he asked for Master Elrond. "Forgive if I interrupt but may I request your presence in Master Elrond's study?"_

_Glorfindel smiled and nodded. "I will be there shortly." The servant bowed low before hurrying off. He turned to the woman and bowed as well. "It has been a pleasure to cross swords with you my lady; until then."_

_The woman stood up and dusted herself off. She smirked. "You too. Good luck with your meeting."_

_The meeting… ah yes, he was supposed to go this afternoon. Boromir headed as well, but not before looking back once more at the elf maiden warrior. She was a force, and he would take caution and earn her favor._

And now he just met her, dressed in regular Elleth clothes. Who is she anyway?

He made a small note to meet Lady Fang again.

* * *

If Vanille or Fang ever did heard of Elrond's coming Council, they were certainly weren't invited. They are still foreigners after all, hailing from a literal distant land – or world if they should consider it.

The company of Elladan came back on that day, and the brothers along with Aragorn joined the council. Legolas and his hosts of elves were there too, since that was their reason for going in the first place. The dwarves and Boromir, all of them who are visitors of Imladris joined; all, except perhaps Pippin, Merry, Vanille, and Fang. The four spent the rest of the afternoon out in the garden, the hobbits drinking tea and eating cakes, and the two watching the serene surroundings.

They talked little, conversations at most were about the weather but their thoughts could never be different from one another. The air was heavy all around the place. It seems the Council is one great decision.

It simply felt all too eerie and nostalgic at the same time for both Fang and Vanille. They held each other's hands tight, all too fearing of what will happen next. For them, this is so much like the last Oerba council. It was about their journey, as Pulse L'Cie destined to become Ragnarok and destroy Cocoon. It was a solemn meeting, a prayer of surrendering your will and fate; all paths laid for you to do. Nothing else matters.

"I wonder what they're deciding," Vanille said. "Whose future will they dictate?"

"Or if they are even dictating," Fang replied. "Man, this is like being turned into a L'Cie again."

"L'Cie?" Merry asked. "What's that?"

"Us," Fang answered vaguely.

Pippin smiled, trying to lighten up the mood. "But that's good right? If you are a L'Cie, then L'Cies must be really nice."

Vanille coughed uncomfortably. How can that sentence be so… wrong in all ways? Fang smiled sickly. "You have no idea."

* * *

The day passed and the following days went as well. The air never felt so solemn. Everyone was somehow quieter. The gatherings grew less, and Arwen's meetings with Fang ceased. Not that Fang noticed as she too faded into the background of the Hall's daily goings. Vanille spent most of her time with Fang.

L'Cie… it has been a while since Vanille thought about their recent past. Lightning and the other felt so far away, while the memory of Oerba grew more vivid. It is as if her mind was trying to erase what happened after their first crystal stasis. She fought hard trying to keep them intact but little by little it slips. Growing afraid of completely losing it, she asked for Erestor. "Do you have any paper I could write on?"

It was midday, four days after the Council was held. They never resumed their lessons but Vanille was quick to pick up on things, and with the help of the scholars there, she learned a great deal of Sindarin and spent some of her time in their archives. Erestor studied her carefully. He picked up his pile of books and methodically set them back to their shelves. "Lady Vanille, you must understand the material does not come very common. We produce them on a very rare basis. Whatever purpose you may have, I hope it will be important enough to spare you some."

"I think… I'm losing some of my memories," Vanille explained. "I need a way for preserving them. Just a little, I think, maybe a sentence or a short letter about my journey with… them. Please?"

Erestor paused and smiled sadly. "That I understand. We elves have such burden, keeping everything for the infinite time. The memories will fade, my lady, but one wants to treasure them as long as one can." He took a parchment from his desk and gave it to Vanille. "I hope this might ease your anxiety."

Vanille smiled gratefully and thanked him. She took the paper, quill already given weeks back, and went back to her chambers and started to get down to it. She paused, examining the paper, and thought about what she should write. How would she fit everything here, her accounts on her friends? Then she knew the answer. She placed the quill to the paper and began:

_Gran Pulse, my home and Fang's_

_Cocoon, the world Inside_

_We are tasked to meet its end, but we found something else._

_Cocoon had a family, and I grew to love them._

_Sazh, Hope, Snow, and Lightning_

_They became my new family and Fang's_

_We held our own future and fate_

_We prove our Will and Freedom_

_And now, I wish to do the same once more._

_I hope I won't forget._

_-Vanille_

The prompts will do the trick. She finished writing her name and folded the paper neatly. She tucked it then to her skirt. This is going to be her luck charm, she decided.

"Vanille?" It was Fang.

Vanille looked up and smiled. "I'm coming."

Later that night, Vanille dreamed. Darkness filled the whole scene. She was desperately searching for something, but couldn't find it. She decided to escape but it seemed futile, for everything seemed the same, desolate and hopeless. "Fang? Anyone?"

_I see you…_

Vanille turned to the owner of the voice. It was a soft hiss and felt ominous. There was a blinding light. She followed where it came from. A rush of humid air swept her violently. She closed her eyes. It felt horrible. She wanted to stop. "No!" Everything stilled at her command.

The scene changed. She was floating. She opened her eyes and saw another brilliant light, more warm and happy. Colors grew and she found herself in a middle of Imladris. She looked around and saw Frodo sitting on the bench. He was fingering something on his neck. She came to him. Frodo looked up to her and held his hand up. Vanille drew her gaze to his palm and saw a ring, perfect in shape and fair to look upon. She looked back at Frodo for an answer but was stunned when she saw no one. The ring was in her hand and latched at her neck. It felt unusually heavy.

_See no harm to this…_

It was that same scary voice. It was coming from the ring. Vanille tried pulling it off but it grew more stubborn and the chain felt smaller. She felt hard breathing for oxygen. In, out, in, in…

"No!" Vanille screamed choking.

"Vanille!" a strong pair of arms grabbed her steady. Vanille bolted awake and saw Fang watching her intently. Vanille was sweating madly and her heart was thumping in frenzy. She was awake. Etro, she awake!

"Fang," she half sobbed, grabbing the woman in a tight embrace. Fang rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. But Vanille knew it would never work.

The sign was burning. It was not over for her.

She has her new Focus.

_A/N: Yes, it's short, forgive me. I just have to post this or it'll be a long while until I update again. I hope the adventure will start the next chapter. This story has its own pace beyond my control. Again, please leave a review. I want to know how it fares. Thanks!_


	6. Of Eavesdropping and War

**Chapter 6: Of Eavesdropping and War**

"Vanille, are you coming?"

"I'll catch up. I just have to fix myself."

Fang sighed, "Women, always vain in the mirror."

Vanille stuck her tongue out playfully and laughed. "Right, and you're not a woman? I'll be there, I promise. You go on ahead."

"All right missy," Fang said before leaving their room.

Vanille counted a dozen deep breaths and concentrated hard on her friend's footsteps. After it completely faded, she stopped brushing her hair and put it back at the table. Her eyes lingered at the smooth wood and fine bristles. Vanille never asked for a brush here at Imladris. She doubted they had one like this she possessed. It was handcrafted by her mother when she first set out on her focus with Fang. That was centuries and a world away ago. Her hand drifted down her body until it reached her hips. Soft white linen covered her, not her usual battle gear. She doubted she could sprint as freely as her old clothes, let alone outrun a Behemoth King at Gran Pulse. It reached down to the floor. She stood up and raised the skirt. It reached her thighs and maneuvering, she exposed her whole left leg.

She held her breath.

Until now, she never checked her brand ever since she arrived at this world. It felt a whole history and definitely decaying along with her precious memories. The idea of fighting and war felt distant now. She never expected forgetting such a big thing in her life was this… easy?

And now, it glowed like she had just got a new Fal'Cie. Since last night, she could feel her magic pulsating again, like it was awakened and ready to be used. But that's ok right? Fang… yes, Fang did show a spectacle of herself and her power. Though strength is definitely her power even before becoming a L'Cie, Slow and Daze certainly isn't. But Fang's not the one who keeps her mark discreetly [it's in her arm after all], nor a new mission. No, Fang is not branded, only her.

"And that's good," Vanille smiled sadly. "Because then, I'll be the only one changing, not her." Vanille wasn't sure if her focus is something good or bad. She just knew the Fal'Cie's are always selfish. This focus would only benefit its master, not her kind, humanity. No, fate will not have her way.

She let go of her skirt and headed to join the others.

She's running away again. But this time, she'll make sure fate would not catch up.

* * *

A week passed after the Council was held; and as a new company entered the homely house, so is the regular company changed Vanille and Fang usually spend time to. The elves, if they were not on scouts with Aragorn, were with Bilbo singing hymns and recounting tales. Vanille spent less time with Erestor as the elf lord went into more meetings with Elrond and Gandalf concerning the fellowship. She then spent the opportunity digging in the archives more about this 'Valars'. It didn't take much time when she encountered the tales of war, the Maia, the Ainur, the Numenoreans, and the elven kingdom. She remembered Erestor once mentioned it briefly but she never expected it to be this huge.

As she spent more time getting to know this world, her resolve grew all the more to surrender her life. The struggles humankind took there were a thousand-long years old of ordeal, generations suffering and lost, all for the end of this 'Enemy'. With more readings, she finally discovered a name, Sauron, an Ainur and Maia [and what Vanille presumed a Fal'Cie is called here], and the dark lord's malicious desire to command all free people. From Sauron's name, Vanille delved deeper, and learned about the One Ring, the one painfully likened in her dream, and its legend and rumors.

And she's going to protect it? Vanille trembled at the knowledge: should she complete her focus, every struggle the people made would be all in vain. What was she to hinder the ultimatum? No, she's going to play her part, partake in the sacrifice so Arda is safe. "And Fang will have a new home who won't need much defending," she consoled herself.

Meanwhile, Fang's sparring sessions completely stopped. And it wasn't because of the dispersing of numerous scouts, but she didn't have the energy to begin with. As much as Fang loved the adrenaline rush she feels on the heat of battle, the once calm and peaceful Oerba she loved most swept her back in the being of Imladris. Her days were wasted simply watching the flowers and leaves fall one by one. At times, she's accompanied by Bilbo but never Arwen, by Boromir but never Legolas.

Fang never quite comprehended it how it exactly happened. But next thing she knew, the elf prince company was replaced by a counterpart of a human royalty. She wasn't sure how to react at how fate went to her. Fortunately, this man wasn't all too prying to reveal her identity. They only talked of nothing in particular. Gondor was the usual topic, along with Osgiliath and the occasional Ithilien. Of course Fang never visited these places but it was all right as long as Boromir was doing all the talking. She enjoyed his company, sort of, and it always felt good when you're occasionally treated like a lady. It was always short talks though, since he would enthusiastically accept the invitation whenever his presence was asked in the short meetings. But Fang was always there, becoming a background herself to the nature of Imladris.

She might not realize it now, but she was truly healing… hopefully for good.

* * *

"I hope you would get to see Gondor when the war is over, when the land is finally peaceful and the trades are good. I would be honored to escort you within the city's grand halls."

Fang looked thoughtful. This was the first time she heard of a war. All she concluded at her stay were the regular scouts to protect this land's borders. "I never heard any war going until now."

Boromir stared at her in surprise. "Truly? Where do you hail my lady?"

She held her gaze at him, decisive and sure. "Not here, that's for sure." She stood up and planted her spear lightly on the ground. She never got over her habit of leaving it when she goes out. "You don't need to know that," she smiled and added, "but you can be sure fighting is as common as it gets from where I come from."

Boromir studied her curiously but remained silent. He believed her, since he saw her sparring with exceptional strength against an elf.

He stood up as well and the two silently strolled around the outside hall. They circled the garden and went around the workshops. Boromir interacted with the elves, occasionally comparing their beautiful work with his own Gondorian art. The elves would smile politely and showed the lord the machinations and mechanics of their work. Fang watched them carefully and let a smile slip between her lips; not the cocky nor the confident type she mostly put on but the genuine variety she rarely let out.

On all the times she spent with him, Fang concluded Boromir is as proud as a man could get. Not only that, but the lord had his experience in war. It's a rarity to see him talk about something other than his beloved land and the skirmishes he held, let alone about glass figures.

Boromir's eyes widened at the silent interest that piqued him as the elves started glazing the works. The very sight made Fang laugh.

"_You don't let it burn too long or it'll explode!"_

"_Really? Then let's try it!"_

"_Wait, Fang no–"_

_A loud crash followed…_

"My lady?"

Fang left the distant memory and focused once more at her company. She realized she was smiling widely and Boromir was looking at her confused. She smirked. "Nothing. Are you done?"

They proceeded with their walk. They went inside this time and tried to pass most of the corridors with murals. They stopped often and examine the paintings etched in the halls of Imladris. To Boromir, it was history. But to her, it was a distant calling. With all the glory and beauty the elves made to the art, all she could see was war, a distant thing now that she's here.

They went outside and edged near the forest. They lingered there a bit longer until the sun was finally setting.

"You are a good company, my lady, but we should be heading back," Boromir said. He reached out his hand to her as if to escort her back. He learned way before she never accepted any gesture but he never really grew out of the habit. It was probably because the repeated practice of Gondorian etiquette ever since he could remember.

Fang turned to him and started heading back as well, but stopped at her third step. Boromir was in high alert as well and drew out his weapon. The air became suddenly quiet. Then a loud cry broke the silence. It belonged to Aragorn.

"Take speed! They're heading to Imladris!"

On cue, orcs appeared and started ambushing head on the gate. They were a score or more and tightly knit. Boromir swung his sword and started attacking the nearest offender. One got away on his grasp and shot straight to Fang. He let it go, knowing from his first sighting with the woman, Fang is more than capable of fighting.

Only she didn't budge. Fang raised her hand and attempted to cast slow and daze. No power came out. "Wha–" she was pummeled and sent a few feet away. 'Boy that stings,' she thought. But another thought came to her. How come it didn't work? She knew some monsters are immune to certain magic but she always felt the power surging through her hand whenever she cast something.

She didn't have time to think any reason because more of the same creatures ran to her again. She got up and this time stuck to her sheer strength, something she possessed way before she became a L'Cie. She thrust her spear forward and swung it around. Two blades surge dangerously forward and Fang barely managed to block it. She staggered but not before dodging another incoming attack. She immediately retaliated and jumped upward. She brandished her spear and did Highwind. It pierced and instantly killed one.

The company finally caught up. Many orcs were fended off mostly because by the horsemen. Legolas was by Aragorn and started shooting most that got too near at Aragorn, who got off and joined Boromir at the heat of battle.

The enemies were outnumbered by then and were quickly disposed. The fight ended.

"What were those? You guys never bothered to tell what those little monsters are." Fang said, her voice almost faltering. Her mind was way elsewhere. She had seen them before and they're certainly no match to her. No, her mind was completely on the fact she can't assume her Saboteur role. She was breathing unevenly. She can't understand the panicked feeling she's in now.

Why was she panicking? It's all very normal if she rationalize about it. Now that she's not a L'Cie anymore, the powers granted to her would eventually fade. The curse, her focus, after all is finally over, along probably with her inhuman skill.

She suddenly wondered if she could still call on Bahamut. Her hand went instantly to her arm. She looked at it. Blood smeared messily just at her shoulders.

"You're hurt," Boromir said as he and the other rushed to her and regrouped. Although he saw the changes in Fang's expression as she inspected herself, he didn't comment further.

Fang looked at him and smiled lightly. "Just a scratch. No worries." She lifted her arm to prove it and got about moving it around to test any muscles dislocated. Fortunately, the cut wasn't deep enough to penetrate her whole shoulder. But it did raise question why it bled furiously.

Fang pinched her arm hard to stop the bleeding and joined the others. She remained silent during the whole trip.

"How things go?" Boromir asked. Aragorn was already dismounted and walked alongside him.

"The orcs have multiplied but we were diligent to suppress them. This band though, they got away and we were in their track for the last two days," Aragorn said.

"It is a curious thing how such creatures knew where to find Imladris," Elladan said. "My father casted his will upon these walls to ensure no evil or darkness will fall upon the homely house."

"To find it with such ease and swiftness proves troubling," Elrohir said gravely. Then he added in a whisper. "I fear the knowledge is passed."

"You mean a traitor is within us?" Boromir couldn't think of any soul in the vicinity who would share any knowledge to the Enemy. His glance caught Fang as he looked back. She was leaning lightly at Aragorn's horse. The wound wasn't so deep, as she claims, but there is something wrong on how she walks. Is she limping?

"Boromir?" Aragorn called back as he saw his companion walked back. Fang was barely on her knees and seemed to throw up anytime soon.

Fang didn't know what's happening. It was just a stupid cut, nothing compared to what Long Gui's are capable of inflicting, yet she staggered every step. Her whole vision was going fuzzy. She attempted to cast Esuna on herself but the power didn't come. She held hard on the saddle for support before going limp and giving away.

Boromir was immediately on her side and helped her stand up. "Fang!" he repeated calling her name.

She focused entirely on him. She was blacking out but she refuse to go down that easily. What would _Michael_ think if he saw her now?

The Rangers were with her now and helped her inside Imladris. The healers were there and took hold of Fang. Vanille was with them. "What happened?" Vanille asked as she checked for any signs of life from Fang. Her friend was dangerously cold. "She's poisoned."

"I suspect as much," Halbarad replied gravely. "She needs to be treated immediately. But worry not, my lady," he smiled comfortingly at Vanille. "Master Elrond's hands heal all."

"I'll come," Vanille said as she joined the healers. No one stopped her, thinking she wanted to be at her friend's side.

Vanille was thinking otherwise. She's going to help; a chain of Esuna and Curasa's will fix Fang in no time.

Vanille followed Elrond's swift trail and his group of healers. They went to the healing room. Vanille already knew the place since this was where Frodo rested and where she left her own stitched dress for Fang. She made it whenever she would head to the dressmaker room. Arwen showed her one time and was delighted to see the young woman very fascinated at the place.

Vanille was immediately excited at the sight of cotton and silk. Back at Oerba, clothes are considered a luxury. Not only materials are hard to get by, but the process involved to create one is hard and beyond mass production. To own two pairs of dresses was unheard of. You often get one, and it's for your wedding day. Vanille never had one while Fang did…

They set the tall woman in a vacant bed and quickly get to work. They examined the wound. It was turning an unbecoming shade of purple and red. They cleaned it until the cut was finally visible. It was already scabbed, which Vanille watched in disbelief as one incised it open again. More purplish fluid flowed out. Someone was pinching Fang's wounded arm to stop the poison. They washed it once more until bright red blood replaced the disgusting fluid. This they stopped the bleeding and bandaged it tight. Vanille sighed in relief. They didn't stitch her friend up, thank goodness. She doubted Fang would get hurt at the needle, though she equally doubted her friend would be enthusiastic at the thought a measly thread was holding her skin.

"It is not so troubling," Elrond said, joining Vanille from where she sat. "Though her wound presented itself fatal, it is not so serious. That is fortunate, for there are wounds who disguise themselves to be superficial in the eyes of an untrained healer but in truth prove to be the worst." He smiled and laid his hand on her head. "Worry not child, Lady Fang will wake up."

"I know," Vanille barely managed a whisper. Elrond read it that Vanille was still worried and won't be leaving anytime soon. He left along with his people. They left her alone.

Vanille listened carefully for their footsteps until it faded away. She turned her attention to Fang. She placed her hand just a little over Fang's body. She didn't even need to concentrate. Her hand glowed green.

Esuna. Curasa. Curasa. Cure. Cure.

Cure. Cure. Cure. Cure. Cure. Cure.

Fang stirred. Vanille managed a smile and held her friend's hand until she would regain complete consciousness.

* * *

Boromir couldn't keep the nagging feeling away. A part of him said he was at fault for letting himself and Fang linger too long outside the borders. It was stupid to think of it, since it was pure accident, but Gondorian honor tells otherwise. Besides, why did he let the orc go? Fang is a woman, not a man. No matter how she looks she's capable of fighting, a real warrior would not pass his responsibility to a woman. A woman! Boromir frowned.

So when he saw Elrond and the other healers at the main hall, he immediately asked for Fang.

"She will be well. A good rest and regular medicine intake for a few days will completely heal all poison," Ishay, one of the healers, comforted.

Elrond examined closely the man in front of him. Boromir seemed not convinced but was trying hard not to look too concerned. He nodded lightly.

"She will be taking a dose later after dinner," Elrond handed a medicine to him. "Why don't you leave this to her side?"

Boromir hurriedly accepted it, glad to help in any way. He left immediately.

"My lord, that is the ointment for rashes," Ishay finally said when Boromir was out of earshot.

Elrond smiled. "I know. But I learned from experience both Men and Elves feel healed when they believe they in turn heal another."

Boromir came to the room but halted as he noticed he had company. He peered at the doorway and saw Vanille at Fang's side. He should have thought as much. Vanille was Fang's friend. No matter, he would wait for her until she would go out.

Boromir watched as Vanille placed her hand on top of Fang. What was she doing? Suddenly, her hand glow a light green. Wait, did he just imagine that? He couldn't believe it. He stood petrified as Vanille's hand stayed its shade. Soft side to side gesture occupied his sight. What was she doing? A single thought came battling to his mind.

_Witch! An ally of the Enemy!_

But that couldn't be. If Vanille was with the Enemy, so too should Fang. Yet the orcs attacked her without much thought.

Everything didn't make any sense. Then Fang's chest moved normally. She was completely healed.

All thoughts of medicine disappeared. He watched silently at the unfolding event.

* * *

Fang felt a familiar surge of power coursing back to her system. A faint tint of malice of L'Cie power, but on the whole, a faint memory of her past. She concentrated hard. Someone was healing her. It didn't take a second for her to realize it was Vanille. The rhythm was less even than Hope's but smoother and definitely more powerful than Lightning's. Besides, Hope and Lightning aren't with her.

Vanille haven't lost her touch yet as a Medic, which proved to be mixed feelings of relief and alarm. Relieved she was healed immediately and alarmed Vanille still has L'Cie powers. Her head still wasn't fully awake so she couldn't conclude anymore suspicions.

"Vanille?" Fang opened her mouth and a croaking sound followed.

"Fang, you're all right. Thank goodness," Vanille smiled.

Fang sat up and brought her hand to her neatly bandaged arm. Is her mark still there? She looked at Vanille in confusion. "How come your powers are still with you?"

Vanille cocked her head. If she's going to lie to Fang, she better do it smooth this time. "Yours aren't? I don't know. This is the first time I used it," that was true. She smiled, "maybe mine's still brimming and will probably fade eventually."

Fang seemed to buy the explanation, "yeah, maybe." She touched her arm. A faint power remained but a different kind. It was Bahamut's raw power still pulsating. This is probably a farewell gift, which made Fang smile. She could still call him.

"Fang? Is your mark…?"

Fang removed the bandaged carefully. She winced. The cut and skinned flesh was still fresh. She had forgotten what it's like to be a normal human again. Back when she's a L'Cie, a crushing blow from Behemoth King is no big deal. But now…?

She fingered her wound and tried to make out the brand. She was expecting the scorched mark she sported ever since they first turned to crystal.

The mark wasn't bleached, but it didn't have any arrows or a sign of the eye. It was the dormant brand, when people turned to crystal and waiting for a new focus. Fang wasn't sure what to make of that. 'So I'm an available L'Cie waiting for orders, only I'm not pleasantly petrified?' she thought sarcastically. Vanille put the bandage back on and did more healing. However, Fang immediately stopped her.

"We might need that on the future," she warned. "I used mine on the stupidest things; best not to waste yours too."

Vanille mutely nodded. Yes, let Fang believe she'll also be drained with the power.

They lingered for a while to ease the tension in the air. Finally, Fang stretched her limbs and made a face, "no use hanging around here then, huh?"

"Yes," she replied and made to stand up. Fang followed, getting up, but stopped halfway. Her attention went by the door. She tilted her head. She thought she heard someone descending. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Someone overheard their conversation. She made her way to the exit. "Fang?"

"Someone's out there," Fang said, already by the floor. "Damn those elves and their overlarge ears," Fang seethed.

Vanille looked worried. "They probably saw me heal."

Fang cocked her head in confusion. "What's wrong with that? They saw me cast Ruinga and call Bahamut. Yours is nothing compared to mine… no offense," she added, smirking slightly.

"Ruinga?" Vanille asked.

Fang looked sheepish. "Well, not the elves in Imladris. I cast it first on Mirkwood then the second time on Legolas so I could go with the Rangers on patrol." Fang turned curious. "Why are you so surprised?"

"Well, I've been reading a lot…"

"So that's why I spent so much time with Boromir–"

"You don't look so upset though," Vanille grinned.

"What?"

"Uh, nothing. Anyway, in this place, magic is something only the Enemy is capable of doing. Well, besides Gandalf."

"The Enemy?" Fang had other thoughts though. 'What kind of name is that?'

"The big bad about to take dominion over the free people."

Fang rolled her eyes. "Right, and Orphan is nothing short of evil?"

Vanille lightly glared at her friend. "They don't know Orphan or any of our story! Now, will you let me finish?" she huffed. She knew Fang never really got scared of her antics but it did make her look apologetic.

"Go on."

"Powers beyond ordinary will then immediately brand you an ally of the Enemy."

"What about the elves?" Fang didn't look convinced. "I don't see any reason besides magic how they managed the garden perfect and ethereal."

"They call it Art."

"What?"

Vanille shrugged. "Art."

Fang sighed, defeated. "Fine… well, no wonder now why the nut King wanted me out of his hands. He doesn't trust me." She shook her head. "But never mind that now. I don't have any more L'Cie magic in me to call a decent Saboteur magic. It's you that should keep on the low."

Vanille had to agree on that. Not that she'll do any more spectacle of herself. She had been trying not to. Ever since she caught the gist of Sindarin, something she learned pretty quickly [Erestor's teaching skills do wonders] in the span of a month or so [Vanille forgot keeping tab of days], she finally figured out what the stares meant whenever she caught one.

Both she and Fang were complete strangers, with matching looks to add the exotic feeling. Fang looked like a tower compared to the other human woman Vanille met, which is quite a feat since the women we're talking about were the Dunedains. She could have passed for an elf, only no one would think of her as that. Fang's skin was a bronze hue and her hair messily cropped too short for elvish sensibilities. But of all things, her clothes were the dead giveaway. Vanille had to admit, the Rangers weren't all subtle compared to the elves of ignoring her friend's garment.

And Vanille… well, she never saw another living being here with a mane as bright as her red hair. It was nothing compared to the dwarves, hers was pinkish and stood up in the crowd of deep black haired elves. And with her first day, it was a ruckus. Not only did she heard a whisper of the word Nerdanel [which she later learned who], but a couple of stares made her pull her skirt a little more down to cover more of her skin. These people apparently never saw a mini skirt before. She smiled inwardly back then when she pictured the expression they would do when they saw Fang. The latter thought was an epic memory Vanille would never forget. Fang may not have noticed but Vanille was paying attention how the whispers improved.

She tried to fit in ever since, which she assumed was working so far. Nobody questioned her nor mentioned any hint of interest where she came from. She looked at her friend. Was she asked then?

However, Vanille didn't have time to ask Fang since the older woman decided to head down all the same. It was dinner and she was hungry from all the walking and fighting she had done.

Dinner was rather uneventful. Although more food were served because of Aragorn's company were present, most retired quickly to their rooms. Elrond and the others lingered of course, to further discuss about the council. Legolas and Boromir joined. Fang looked suspiciously at the elf prince. She had a hunch he was the one eavesdropping a moment ago. The two women were about to go when an elf stopped them. Vanille recognized him as the one who bandaged Fang.

"My lady, it is good to see you well so swiftly. I am Revilo, one of the healers," Revilo bowed low. When he was back on standing, his expression was a mix of wonder, confusion, and alarm. "You should rest for your wound, though not deep, is poison nonetheless."

Vanille's thoughts were running wildly. He must be the one who overheard their conversation.

However, Fang merely smiled smugly. "No measly poison can really break this warrior, love," she winked. "We L'Cie encounter them every time."

"And collapse stone cold?" Revilo asked, unconvinced.

Fang seemed a little put out. "That one is probably foreign so my system never had the gist of it since. But it was poison all the same and I'm used to it. Swords, spears, arrows," she shrugged, "the works."

"That is fortunate to hear, my lady, but I would be most at ease if you would not participate in any extreme activities for the next week for full recovery. After all," he smiled, "it is probably foreign."

Fang would have loved to tell this elf off to mind his own business before realizing health is his business. So she kept silent and simply nodded.

* * *

That night, Vanille had another vivid dream. This time it was about Frodo walking towards a volcano with Sam right behind him. The scene made her cold and withered. She had to stop them from doing such a terrible thing. They will be incinerated for sure. Wait, was that really her reason? She saw the moment pause and at her disposal to approach the hobbits. She went inside the dream and walked toward the front. Frodo was holding something.

"What's that?" Vanille asked nothing in particular.

"The Ring."

Vanille's vision changed into a blank white space. Frodo was behind her back but she made no move to face him. "Why?"

"I have to throw it into the fire."

"But why this volcano?"

"No other fire could unmake the Ring."

The scene changed again and she was back watching the pilgrimage of the two. She followed quickly. They were at the entrance and Sam was shouting at Frodo to throw it now. Vanille shouted as well. Frodo looked back and said something. Vanille didn't hear it but then he saw Frodo disappear out of thin air.

Did he throw it? Was he successful?

Then everything went dark and evil. Vanille knelt to the floor in disbelief. Had they failed?

Another vision entered. The ring, glowing and perfect in shape and fashion, levitated a few feet away. Suddenly, fire consumed the object. Vanille screamed. Unimaginable pain raged inside her. She was burning, not only in the heat, but with rage, regret, sorrow, helplessness and hopelessness.

She turned into a C'ieth.

"Vanille!" a chorus called her back to waking.

Fang was shaking her furiously. Elladan and a healer were there. She was shaking violently. She felt her lips dry as well as her throat. Tears flowed uncontrollably.

"It was just a dream," Fang soothed, rubbing Vanille's back.

"I'm awake," she sobered and calmed a bit. "I'm… fine." Her grip on her friend didn't relax though.

"What happened?" Elladan asked gently.

Vanille shook her head. "Everything's… pretty fuzzy," she glanced at Fang. Her friend was frowning. Vanille knew Fang remembered the last time she said that. "The feeling won't go away though. Death was there."

"Drink this," the healer offered. "It soothes the spirit."

Vanille obediently drank the fill. It burned warmly inside, like a good fire on a good night. She smiled gratefully. "Thanks. That helped a lot." She smiled apologetically. "I'm very sorry for the trouble. I think I could go back to sleep again."

Elladan smiled. "Do not hesitate to call us. Sweet dream, friend." He beckoned the healer and the two left.

Fang waited until they were completely out of earshot. Then she finally turned to Vanille. "Okay, no secrets to me. What was that?"

Vanille drew a deep breath. "Ragnarok. It was the time when you turned to it during the War of Transgression."

Fang's eyes immediately softened. "I see. It's hard isn't it?"

Vanille wanted to cry, reasons way different from the one she wanted Fang to think. "I'm sorry. It was stupid–"

Fang hushed her. "No. Go to sleep Vanille. It's over."

Vanille nodded and went back. Fang left as well. But she couldn't go to sleep.

Did Frodo have the Ring?

* * *

A/N: I had to cut the chapter, as this was supposedly should end when the fellowship finally leaves, because it's already running on 13 pages. For the loose ends, please contact me for anything that I miss to explain. On the sidenote, I just read the 'FFXIII episode zero: Promise' and so far, I'm doing a good job showing what Oerba might have looked like. Fang and Vanille, according to the novella, witnessed Lindzei (that's Barthendalus) create Cocoon, and ruined the other towns on the process. Oh and anybody who are curious who is Michael, he's one of the kids Fang and Vanille grew up with, an OC thrown in. Read and review!

-eris-


	7. So this is how it feels like, huh?

**Chapter 7: So This is How it Feels like, huh?**

It was a brief notice, something the two never had time to cope. Next thing they knew, they found out a company was leaving, for good. Frodo was with them, the other eight chosen to be his companion. The Fellowship will depart the day after tomorrow.

"But why?" Vanille inquired. Nobody bothered to explain that bit to her. Neither did they tell anything to Fang, but the older woman wasn't all concerned about that. She had other thoughts in mind.

Bilbo blew into his pipe. He looked at her oddly. "What a funny thing to say. All the people here knew why."

Vanille frowned. "I wasn't with the council."

He shook his head. "Pippin and Merry aren't there but there they are, involved and all."

"Well, I'm not. But I do want to know. Where are they heading?"

Bilbo shrugged. "Who knows, child? With Gandalf there in the company, all sorts of adventures are up." He looked thoughtful. "Ah, but I heard this one is a strange thing. Not that the Quest is anything normal to begin with."

"What quest?"

"Why, the quest to destroy the Ring of course."

Vanille sat back in silence. "Oh."

Bilbo looked pleased with himself. "Well, that's nice you understood the situation. I was afraid I have to explain everything to you. Now, my lad Frodo, will–" Bilbo's voice faded to background.

'So the journey will start, along with my life.' Vanille had been thinking about her Focus a lot lately. She may be decisive on the part of not telling Fang, for fear her friend might do something crazy like confronting the Enemy alone, but that doesn't mean she will give up abandoning all hope of staying human. She had no desires becoming a Cie'th. She was trying to find loopholes, anything that she could complete her Focus and at the same time end Sauron's existence. No amount of logic is coming to her. From what she learned, Sauron will continue to exist so long as the Ring remains. It's like her life and fate is tied to the Ring, like Sauron, and she hated that fact.

Does she not have any right to live properly on any worlds? She never felt so frustrated. She also thought about contending to the Enemy's willpower to regain her humanity, something that Lightning and her friends had done when they turned Cie'th in front of Vanille and Fang. But that would be risky as well and would require confronting the Fal'Cie personally. She knew if she did that, there's no way Fang would stay behind. She will know the truth. Three possibilities came to Vanille. One, her friend will go crazy like before to protect her and will call upon herself to protect the Ring, allying herself against their new friends. Two, she'll understand in a way she will contend with the will of Sauron, which Vanille heavily doubted will result to anything good. Three, which she feared the most, Fang will find out about the nature of the Ainur and the place Valinor which she will fight against to secure Vanille's fate.

"My dear?"

"Hm?" Vanille turned to Bilbo. He was smiling sadly.

"Don't you want to say good bye to them?"

* * *

Fang took a bath that day and changed to her original set of clothes. She checked her gear and inspected her 'Kain's Lance' before heading outside Imladris.

She wanted to be alone to gather her thoughts. So much had happened. Fang knew the best way to clear such trivialities was to hunt game. She was hopeful the animals here were more Pulsian than Cocoon-ish. She never quite got over the fact Cocoon was so tame that even the wild animals are domesticated. She scouted as much forest ground she could cover. There were many animals about and, thank Titan, all were hiding at her presence. Good, the game here is like back at Grand Pulse. Fang smiled inwardly. She brandished her spear and started her hunt.

Outside, everything looked like a memory of an Age. Vallis Media greeted her like an old friend. An old trodden path for messengers and travelers, something Fang figured the Rangers would use. The Elves would probably come from the trees. And as paths go, there were very few animals in the clearing. She took a detour and headed west. The trees grew thicker at every step and she could feel the life pulsating harder. The air was loud on her ears; the sound of many creatures living filled the silent air. The bushes stirred. Fang immediately thrust her weapon directly at the movement. It stopped. A paralyzed rabbit came out. Fang picked it up and gathered it over her shoulder. It was still breathing. The animal sported a rather large bruise on its chest since Fang never intended to go for a kill. She didn't feel like it yet and she wasn't camping. Going back to her place, there will definitely be a generous amount of food at the table. No need to suffer on some skinny rabbit.

She continued playing her little game. After capturing and eventually letting the two dozen assortments of animals loose, Fang took a break sitting under the biggest tree in the near radius. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths to savor the late afternoon breeze. She didn't care if any band of orcs might attack. On the contrary, she would welcome the fight. If it got too out of hand, she could always summon Bahamut for back up. Nothing can get more fear than the Eidolon releasing Megaflare on the creatures.

Fortunately, there were no assaults so far, possibly because of the successful work the Rangers and elves had done recently to scout the region. She shifted her position to the right side, where a small ray of the sun pierced completely through the thick woods. She let its warmth kissed her face like a normal afternoon should. She touched her arm. 'Just in case,' she thought before summoning Bahamut. She smiled as the beast appeared; it assured her that the feeling she felt was no illusion. She really could still call on its help. She closed her eyes and let sleep take her. Now is the time for an afternoon nap.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Lady Fang?"

Aragorn and the others look up. They were outside the halls of Imladris, enjoying the last comfort they would have before their journey would start. "I have not since this morning," Legolas replied. "Do you wish to speak to her?"

Arwen nodded. "Yes. It has been a while since we conversed." She looked thoughtful and smiled. "I miss her company."

"If no one has seen her, she is probably with Lady Vanille," Legolas said.

Aragorn stood up. "I'll go and help you look for her."

"Thank you." The two headed to where they last found the young woman.

"Fang? I thought she was with you."

They were in the main garden. Vanille sat on the larger benches accompanied by Arwen's brothers. Elrohir was narrating the Lay of Leithian at that time and paused on the part where Beren and Luthien were already on Morgoth's throne. "My sister, she is probably with Lord Boromir. They grew close in friendship for the days that passed," Elladan offered.

"Boromir is with me and Legolas before I left them," Aragorn offered.

"Where could she be? Had she left outside?" Arwen said to no one in particular. Her brow furrowed in slight worry. She glanced at the direction to the gate and sighed. "It cannot be helped then. I shall simply wait for her."

Vanille stood up, the look of anxiety starting to paint her face. "I'll go and look."

"Outside Imladris is dangerous, my lady," Elrohir warned, standing up as well.

"But she might be outside," Vanille replied stubbornly. "I will go there and no one's stopping me."

"No one is," Elrohir repeated. His face suddenly relaxed and he laughed. "I shall escort you."\

The two went outside. It was a good afternoon to walk and their concern for their friend's

welfare lessened. It was a rare peaceful atmosphere in these dark times. They lingered on every forest path and enjoyed the cool wind blowing the branches. Vanille found it very enjoyable. Of all things that remind her of home, this one did. She wouldn't be surprised now if Fang really did spent her time wasting it simply outside.

"You don't have to look," Vanille offered, watching Elrohir peeking beyond at every tree. She giggled at the sight. This probably reminded him of his childhood days too, how long ago that would be.

"What?"

Vanille grabbed his hand and leaned closer. She looked at the beautiful man in front of him and smiled reassuringly. "I'm sure Fang is all right. Now that I've seen the place, it doesn't look all too dangerous for her."

Elrohir looked away. She tilted her head in confusion. Was he blushing? Vanille grinned inwardly. Yes, these people are very old fashioned. Get too close and they'll come up with the most bizarre imaginations. "Of course," he replied, his voice strained and trying to calm down. "Should we be heading back?"

"Can we stay for a little while longer?" Vanille asked. "I like it here."

He nodded. "Of course," he offered his hand and together they strolled through the forest.

It was already getting dark.

"Where are they?"

Boromir was pacing. Others would be too but sensibility told them two people pacing in a single room wouldn't leave much space for pacing. Elladan folded his hands and sighed. "My brother is with Lady Vanille. He knows the ways of the forest. He can protect her. As for Lady Fang, they probably found her and the three were spending time together."

Legolas considered the explanation and agreed. However, Boromir was not convinced at the least. "And if they're not? The borders are becoming more dangerous in these times."

"Lord Boromir has a point," Aragorn nodded. "With the orcs abroad, they could have been easily ambushed."

"On the borders of Imladris?" Elladan raised an eyebrow. "Aragorn, we are not on Man's territory. Our land is not simply guarded with spears and swords. Ada's powers govern here as well."

"That does not seem to be the case when Lady Fang and I were attacked," Boromir replied gravely.

"Dark times are indeed at hand."

Legolas stood up. "I'll go look for them."

"If a search party will be done, it is I who will be most capable," Elladan answered. "I am, after all, a resident in my father's land."

"And I as well spent a part of my childhood here," Legolas countered. He made his way to the door, bowed and finally out.

Outside Imladris, the prince's eyes lingered up the sky, where little patches of the trees' leaves left a sight of the stars, something their entire kind share to love so much. Legolas liked the stars too. The wind touched him and he just knew there was simply no danger. The forest would be tense if there was any mischief going about. Elladan was probably right. 'Still, it wouldn't hurt to go looking for them,' Legolas decided.

He first followed the forest path and immediately noticed there weren't any animals approaching him. They always do in the presence of Elves, trusting no harm would fall to them. Apparently, someone decided to hunt them in these borders. He didn't need to think too much who's responsible. He sighed inwardly. "Fang."

He steered away from the path and sure enough found three sets of footprints, one light and two heavier steps. Elrohir and Vanille had taken this direction, as well as Fang. He followed the trail until it split. It seems the two agreed to not look for her after all. He looked at the direction where Fang went and followed.

A few minutes past, and he stopped. The air grew suddenly thick, like a beast was taking the whole air of the clearing all to himself. Legolas drew his bow cautiously. What could be something so large easily sneak into this land? Surely the elves there would be alerted at such presence. Legolas didn't need any skill to hear the low rumbling noise. He jogged, feet light and nimble that neither sound nor footprint was left on the grass he walked. Not long, he finally spotted the beast. He climbed at the nearest tree to its tallest branch and quickly found a perfect view to aim. He examined the enemy at hand. He could make out a pair of wings hiding discreetly, a good tactic of escape, and probably explain how it got here. Still, the elves had patrols at the skies too. How could they have missed this?

As he watched the beast more, a thought pondered him. Had he seen him before? The beast suddenly moved, encircled to something he was definitely hiding from Legolas' view.

"I think we should call this one a day," a feminine voice called out. The beast gave a responsive roar and crouched at her command. Legolas knew who she was. He jumped down and landed feet tucked to the ground. Fang whirled at him. "When did you get here?"

"Just now," he replied, watching Bahamut. He remembered now. The dragon looked different, a bit altered from what he saw last. He didn't comment on it though. "You disappeared before us and both Lady Arwen and Vanille are starting to worry."

Fang looked thoughtful. "Let me guess… Vanille is here outside too." Legolas did not answer. Fang took that then as a yes. She sighed heavily. "Do we go and look for them now?"

"It will not be necessary," he replied. "She has Lord Elrohir when she left. Let us just head back."

"Ok," she said. She turned her head on the Beast and touched his head. "Looks like your work here is done," she smiled. Bahamut gave an approving sound and disappeared. She walked towards him and together headed back.

"There you are. Arwen and Boromir are starting to get worried for you."

Aragorn greeted them in, a small smile of relief on his face. Elladan nodded at what the Ranger said. "We all were. Vanille and my brother would have gone outside again."

"You did tell us you would be heading back soon," Vanille pouted towards Fang.

The older woman shrugged. "I fell asleep. The forest was a good bed."

"No matter. The important thing is everyone is well. Dinner would be served soon and I have no desire for my father to give his attention here. He has far more pressing matters to dwell his thoughts in," Elladan contended.

They all headed back, Vanille holding her friend's hand tight to her own. She squeezed it reassuringly.

* * *

"How was the escapade?"

Fang gave the question a considerable thought. After a pause and an intake of breath, she replied, "Not much of an escapade but yeah, I had a good time getting away from this whole charade."

Arwen joined in watching the night sky. "Is it too much?"

The Pulsian sighed heavily. "Coping is an understatement. I've been away from home long and far enough to feel what it felt like to be a stranger. But this," She gestured the view and breathed in frustration. "Fate's mockery seems to milk it for all its worth."

"From what you speak of your home, it does not much differ here," Arwen replied. "You don't have to be a stranger."

"A traveler eventually yearns for home. This isn't Gran Pulse, no matter how it tries to be, all nature and stuff." She smiled crookedly. "Now look at me, I'm starting to sound like you guys." She turned her attention to Arwen. She curtsied in mock fashion. "My lady, thou possess insurmountable beauty… or something like that."

"I'm afraid my people cannot help with that," she answered apologetically. She moved over to the vines and took a wild flower out of its branch. She twirled it around, examining its petals delicately. She handed the flower to Fang and smiled. "Yet surely, everything will end. There lies rest, if not peace."

* * *

The night was quiet and all Vanille could do was wait for the sun to rise. "Surely, there is something I could do again. Another miracle to create," She whispered quietly to the wind. It replied with a gentle blow on her curls. There isn't really much she could do right now. Fate would have to wait. She clasped her hands in her praying form, fingers pressing and twisting each other. She looked at the sky and the memory of the beautiful fireworks back at Bodhum greeted her. The stars were bright and twinkling, the kind the children back at Oerba wish at. Those are different stars though. Still, she made a wish.

_Another miracle…_

There was a knock on the door. Vanille spun around to be greeted by Elrohir. She involuntarily tucked a strand of her hair back to her ear. "Hey."

"My Lady, just a moment ago the wind whispered to me," He smiled gently. "It was a young lady's voice, whispering for a miracle." His eyes softened more. "Is anything amiss?"

Vanille couldn't reply. Her hand was already at her mouth in disbelief. Is their nothing secret in this life? She hasn't even begun tangling webs, just threads of lie. "Elrohir," she whispered his name, barely containing her fear and surprise. "I," she faltered for her words. All the while, the elf calmly looked at him, waiting patiently for her to speak. He maintained an encouraging smile. "I… I… I'm sorry… but I can't tell you." _Not without explaining everything, which will take a while and possibly alerting Fang to come, and I can't risk that._

"Does it concern where you come from clashing where you are now?" he asked gently.

Vanille mutely nodded. Her hand grip tightened to her mouth again.

Elrohir nodded back understandably. He walked closer to her and gently took her hand. It was warm and comforting like a fire in the seeming endless snow of Oerba's winter. Her hand felt clammy and cold compared to his. He moved her hand slowly away from her face. "Then I wish my lady all the fortune you need to reach your miracle."

Vanille couldn't hold her anxiety any longer. She leaned to him and let every tear unshed flow. Her body trembled. All the while, the elf lord offered his silent companion. Elrohir knew he could not help her, not yet anyway. "Thank you for not prying," she muttered when her breathing finally slowed down. Her eyes were still red from crying but she was smiling again.

"This is Imladris, the last Homely house. It is a place of rest and comfort. Blessed are we who fulfilled these to our guest down to their heart and soul." He bowed lightly. "Sleep well lady Vanille."

"Good night Elrohir."

That morning, Vanille knew what exactly she's going to do. She had the most peaceful dream last night, the first time her nightmare stopped. Her Mark didn't burn as well. She walked, her feet never missing a single beat. Elrohir, before leaving, gave her an advice. His council, though seeming sound and wise, will be more insightful should she ask for Master Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel, and finally Mithrandir's councils as well. Only, Vanille decided that night too that she would ask around as sparingly as she could manage. Mithrandir appeared to be the best option, as Elrohir informed her of the Wizard's great wisdom and insight.

"Gandalf, sir?"

The old man looked up to her and smiled. "Lady Vanille, well met this morning. I trust you did not come here for simple exchange of greetings?"

"No, I don't," Vanille replied, taking a seat next to him. She looked like a child compared to her and somehow she felt so small and insignificant. Her troubles seem to be far less important with his agenda. What is his agenda anyway? That, Vanille still hasn't figured out.

"Elrohir talked to me a bit earlier about you," he said, his eyes twinkling in understanding, "that Ellon, no matter how many thousand years will pass, will always possess such childlike sympathy. He is worried about you and troubled that you do not trust him."

"It's not like that," Vanille squirmed. Now she felt bad for him. But it can't be helped. She has to keep it a secret and bury it down to her grave, or to her Cie'th stone, whichever came first. "I'm sorry but–"

Gandalf held his hand up, silencing her. "No need to explain. I see it involves greater fates and circles that it is better kept flowing." Gandalf took his pipe and blew a long trail of smoke. It formed into a small sphere with a long line down to support what it weighs. It was Cocoon after Vanille and Fang's Ragnarok. His brow furrowed at the thing he created. "What a curious thing."

"It's our home, Pulse," Vanille said, "Only a bit different… it's after me and Fang…" She looked at him. "How did you know what it looks like?"

"I have not the faintest idea. This world is old; it's wonders and Magic older. However, the wheels go and turn, never stopping for anyone. The only thing we can do is do our duty and role on this story we weave called Life. Maybe," he paused, the smoke changing shape once more. It formed into something Vanille was familiar of, but what it exactly is, she could not decide what.

"What is it?" she heard herself say, wondering unconsciously at the shape.

"Maybe, child, it is time you choose what you shall play in this Life," he said, looking hard at her. The smoke disappeared into the wind. His features softened, smiling wisely, "do not let anything or anyone play it for you."

* * *

"Lady Fang?"

Fang turned back to his direction. She crossed hers arms and looked away. "You guys are leaving tomorrow, I hear. You're going with them, yes?"

"I will simply follow their route until I pass Gondor's land. Only then I will depart from them, should they not follow my council," Boromir replied. "Of course, the path to Gondor is safest. I even trust the ranger Aragorn thinks as well. I only need the wizard to consent as well."

"Really? Then that's good. Good luck to that."

"Thank you."

Fang remained silent for a while. She inspected his face, examining his next move. After a whole five minute, she smirked and scoffed. "That's not the only thing you came here for, is it?"

Boromir walked until he was behind her, and watched the open sky. "You will make a fine addition should you lend Gondor a hand to a coming war."

Fang turned around. "So you heard about my escapade?" She inwardly wondered if he knew as far as her ability as summoning Bahamut. She was sure this guy hasn't seen her magic yet.

"Lord Legolas mentioned it."

"Damn that stuffy Prince," Fang cursed. "No thanks. I've graduated war way long ago."

"I ask you on behalf of my people. Help is more than welcome. I fear a strike from the Enemy against Gondor will prove to be enough to destroy the proud city."

Fang didn't reply. She closed her eyes. Enough. This is exactly what happened before she and Vanille got became L'Cie. The village near the Archylyte Steppe had just recently been destroyed by the Cocoon L'Cie, the enemy.

"The city of Gondor will always welcome you, my lady," Boromir bowed and left. As the door closed and his footsteps faded, Fang let a heavy sigh.

"Etro, help me."

* * *

The day came. Everyone was outside the gate, the Fellowship facing them, and the others by the walls with Elrond at the front.

"May the blessing of the Valar and Illuvatar guide you on your Quest," Elrond bowed.

It was a silent farewell. Vanille watched the hobbits go, waving at Pippin and Merry, the two members she grew close to the most. Legolas last looked at Elrond, thinking this may be the last time he might see him, should his fate prove ill. His eyes strayed a little and glanced at Fang. He bowed his head at her. Fang tilted her head up in response. She watched Boromir, never looking back. Gandalf was beside Frodo. He looked back only once and to Vanille. He smiled at her. Arwen was beside her father, looking silently at Aragorn.

"Be safe, Estel," she whispered, only for her to ear and Aragorn's heart to feel.

They left.

The days past and went. Somehow, it fell into a routine. One by one, the guests of Elrond left, the dwarves, the elves of Mirkwood and the Rangers, all headed back home. Messengers came from time to time, but not often. Vanille continued with her studies with Erestor. Fang eventually joined in, so they had to go back a bit. It wasn't long though to catch up and Fang found it a good distraction. At afternoon, the two would head to Bilbo's room and listen to his tales and songs. Arwen would be with them by then. Later, they would spend the rest of the day by the garden of Imladris, joined by Glorfindel this time. This they would listen as he recounts some of the tales of his own life and history. At times when stories were too much, they would all head, including the golden-haired elf, to the workshops and help with whatever work that is available. Soon they discovered the elf lord's hidden talent in horse tending, Vanille's stitching ability and Fang's glasswork skills. They would sometimes take time off just to go there.

At times, when scouts are needed, Glorfindel would not be there so the two spend their time among themselves. Fang didn't offer any help anymore and would rather take Vanille with her as they scout the outer borders of Imladris. This, either the brothers Elrohir or Elladan would join in, offering help now and then on certain paths.

It went on for about a month. Fang felt it was like a compressed painting of a one long day.

"Knock, knock."

It was night time. Fang entered Vanille's room. Vanille was already lying on her bed, sheets all tucked in. She got up and patted a space for her friend to sit. "You okay?"

Fang nodded. "Bored, but yeah. You?"

"Sleepy."

Fang smirked. "I'm keeping you awake, missy?"

Vanille stuck her tongue out playfully. "You bet."

Fang looked at her and smiled. "It's been a long while since I last saw you with your hair down. Nightmare's gone?"

"Uh-huh." Vanille twirled her curls. "Do you think… do you think we could really go home?"

Fang went silent and thoughtful. "If we can't, then I certainly want nothing to change again."

"But what if it did?"

"Then I don't know. I think we should just make do with the best we can manage."

"You've grown again, Fang," Vanille said.

Fang smiled. "We're always growing."


	8. The Fleeting Wind

**Chapter 8: The Fleeting Wind**

"Why won't you come?" Vanille pried.

Fang simply shrugged the question off. "I just don't feel like coming."

The younger woman pouted and her hands found suddenly themselves on her hips. "Oh, come on now Fang! They would had let me join too if you came."

"… I didn't know you miss fighting," or still capable now that we're back to being humans, Fang completed her words through her thoughts. She looked at her friend skeptically. "You do realize you have very little magic in you left and we're trying to save that."

"I can still fight without it," insisted Vanille, "I mean, when we first became L'Cie, I don't have any powers, yet I'm fully capable of defeating this beast's skin without anyone's help," she tapped her fur clad skirt. Fang almost blinked. So that's what's different from Vanille. Lately, Vanille opted to dress in full regalia like any residents here to blend more naturally. She even let her hair down and occasionally put flowers in it like the Elleth. But she was Gran Pulse Vanille again now, skirt, pigtails and all.

"Since when did you change into that?"

Vanille glared. "Stop switching the subject!"

"Sheesh, fine. Don't get your pretty face all soured up," Fang laughed the comment off. "Anyway, that was a long time ago. You might have forgotten what it feels like in battle without any Power in you."

"I still feel stronger."

Fang laughed at the insistence. "You're desperate, yeah?" Her friend mutely nodded. Fang turned serious. "They're the real deal Vanille. I don't want you to get hurt."

Vanille let out a frustrated sigh, "Ooh, you're impossible! I'm not worrying for your safety too much. Why can't you do the same for me?" She stumped her feet to make her point. "I want to go out and fight. It's not my problem if you're giving up."

"I'm not giving up anything." Fang frowned, not wanting any implications her friend had put. "You really want to pick a fight? Fine," she picked her spear up and pointed it at Vanille. "Fight me."

Fang knew her friend would never accept that challenge. Their styles are too different. Fang would easily win.

Vanille raised her weapon. Ok, didn't see that one coming. "I'll show you!" Vanille whipped her weapon in a circular motion and attacked right out of Fang.

The older woman barely dodged the swift attack. Fang cursed herself for forgetting. Fang will surely win all right, if only she could go five meters close to Vanille. She planted her spear hard on the ground, did a round, swirling as to her weapon like it's a pole, and shot straight to the red head to quickly get close to her. Vanille was ready. She adjusted her aim, quietly muttered a 'Bravera' to herself and a 'Deprotect' at Fang, and flung it at her oncoming assailant. Fang's momentum kept her from dodging and was hit right at Vanille's weapon. Utter pain erupted from her whole body as she stumbled to the ground. She held her spear for support.

'Boy that stings so much,' she checked her body and saw a large bruise already forming along her ribcage. This is bad. Had she been so out of shape these last few weeks? When did Vanille become stronger than her? Wasn't she suppose to be doing is sitting there all pretty and talk? Fang could feel her whole body's natural shield becoming weak and vulnerable against Vanille's attack. 'Hold that thought,' Fang stood up. "I thought I told you to save that magic."

Vanille froze. This is bad. She completely forgot about keeping it secret and Fang was smart enough to detect the magic she casted. "Um… I was… desperate?" she replied lamely. 'Please buy it, please buy, dear Etro, let Fang buy–'

"To fight?" Fang raised her brow.

"No. I want to go outside. The real outside," she hastily added when she saw Fang about to open her mouth again for a retort. "Outside Imladris, I want to explore. This is a whole new world Fang. Aren't you curious what outside looks like? The places you hear, like Gondor, Shire, Rohan, Fangorn, Lothlorien."

"Sound's very Cocoon-ish except the last two."

"This is not about Cocoon and Gran Pulse. This world is very much different."

Fang didn't reply immediately. She was still nursing that bruise from the spar. It hurts too much that she couldn't entirely focus what exactly Vanille was trying to say. Has her mind already forgotten what it felt like fighting Behemoths and the Undying's? No, that can't be; she had her rounds with the elves and the scouting missions. She still remembered what pain felt when in close combat. No, the thing she forgot was how much Deprotect could do with your body. It'll wear off eventually but Fang didn't want to sport the whole day limping like some maimed warrior. She kept her stance steady with her spear as her crotch.

Then her thoughts shifted to Gondor, one of the two places she only knew from what Vanille said, Lothlorien aside. She heard that place all right. And the last time she was told about it, someone wanted her to protect it. And Lothlorien, the place she first met Arwen. The Haven more beautiful than Imladris… It felt like a dream and a waking sleep. Fang personally didn't want to come back there. She never felt a place so far from reality and honestly she both hated it and was scared at it.

"Fang? Please?" Vanille was already beside her. She had something on her hand, a bottle of some sort. She threw the Potion at both of them. Her pain lessened considerably.

Fang sighed in a resigned way. "All right, you win. I should have known this was coming anyway. The determination of the people of Oerba is bordering on stubbornness."

"Including you?" Vanille grinned teasingly.

Fang smirked. "Now what makes you think that?"

* * *

The two brothers were at the smaller gardens, accompanied by a few Rangers and Ellon warriors, when Fang and Vanille finally found them. It's been a while since the four had any proper meetings and the sight of the two simply made Vanille smile. It was the Ranger Halbarad who first noticed the additional company. "Well met Lady Vanille and Lady Fang."

"Hello to you too," Fang was the first to reply. The two sat by the grass along with them. "No missions yet?"

Halbarad smiled. "There are no 'missions' as you put it, yet. But times are growing dark and I fear we must be ready for the coming war."

"Such dark thoughts my good friend," Elladan said, "Rest comes a fleeting wind, short and brief. Let us not think of the troubles when these times come."

"If they come, will I come too?" Vanille asked. "I want to go outside."

"I always escort you and Lady Fang at the borders of Imladris whenever I can," Elrohir reminded.

"Not that. I mean, really outside," Vanille replied, "Outside Imladris."

Elladan made a strained frown. "There are many orcs abroad. Your safety–"

"Oh you told me that," Vanille cut him. "Fang told me that too. But I can take care of myself. Will you not let me come?"

"It is dangerous," Elladan replied.

"I defeated Fang," Vanille offered, grinning ear to ear. "That's something, right?"

Fang immediately stared at her friend. Her eyes narrowed. "Since when did that count as a defeat?"

"You staggered."

"I haven't lost all my strength yet."

"I hit you."

"Once."

"You failed to hit me."

Fang gripped her weapon. "Want me to do it now?"

Vanille glared. "I thought you're on my side," she hissed. She faced them. "I won't be a luggage."

"Lady Vanille–" Elladan began to speak but was soon interrupted by his brother.

"Well met, my sister," Elrohir came to her and embraced her.

"You smell of oil and flowers," Arwen laughed. "I have not met my brother without the lingering scent of horses and grass before."

Elladan frowned theatrically. "We are still your brothers Undomiel. We do take a bath."

"Yes and you quickly fetch and ride a horse even if it is only inside."

Elrohir laughed. "That it is."

"Ada wants to see you," Arwen said to his brothers. "He said there had been activities from the orcs as of late from Bree."

Elladan stood up in alert. "We shall see him now. Come brother," he said. Elrohir let go of Arwen's hand and left the company. The others resumed their conversation and occasional singing.

"I think I'll be tagging along with them," Vanille left and chased after the two.

"And you?" Arwen turned to Fang. "Do you not want to keep her safe?"

Fang carefully read her face before sighing. "You really want me to go?"

The Evenstar laughed and smiled. "My lady, I want you to not lose hope."

It was half of their conversation all the time, the reason why Arwen always spent so much time to her. The Pulsian warrior never felt so restless and without power to the turnings of the world. Fang tried to keep it together and it was breaking her. She wanted to preserve what was little left – the memories, the fleeting moments, the names of her families and friends, the sacrifice she gave and received – but everything just kept on, leaving her. Her mountain called Life is finally bending to the wind called Change and she's losing. Vanille was all right, she was adopting, but not her. She just couldn't let go without breaking down. She was afraid she might never get back up.

So Arwen told her countless time to scatter her Life into grasses instead of a one big mountain. No wind can tear it, for the grass bend with ease. At first, Fang found it all hard to comprehend the metaphors the Elf Maiden was explaining but bit by bit, as they talked stretching from days and months, she started to understand and let her heart gently flow. It was what Arwen wanted the most from her, to never lose hope.

_Melon nin, Estel. My beloved, Hope._

* * *

"It will be a three-day hard journey, with as less provision so we can travel swifter. By the third morning, we shall rest at the borders before finally heading on. We shall dismount the horses by the second night, when provisions are gone, and send them back. From there, we shall move by foot. Track the orcs and kill them on sight." Elladan furrowed his brow. The scouts came from a well distant land. He calculated the travel time the messenger took to relay this message and frowned further still at the figures. They had to go now or there won't be anything left to salvage. "We will be too late by the time we arrive."

"Then let us do what we can and linger not on what we can't accomplish," Elrohir replied.

Elladan nodded. "It is. I shall see the provisions. Ready the horses."

Elrohir quickly nodded back and together they separate ways. He knew his brother would prepare the smallest meals to make the journey as light as possible. The situation was bad. What his brother said was true: that no matter how quick they proceed they will be already too late. All they could do now is simply minimize the damage. The attack will probably start tomorrow, way before they were even at the middle of their road. He hastened his steps. If only they could fly–

Elrohir stopped walking, staggering a bit when he forcefully left the momentum he built. Fly… fly…

"_I flew Ada! …Like eagles of my young dreams… and felt the sun's warmth like no other on the ground."_

He dashed madly at the opposite direction away from the horses. He knew a better way to get there on time.

Vanille had a certain gut feeling that she took the wrong turn by the second fork of the corridor. Imladris was never a maze but it is big enough to get confused from time to time. Vanille carefully retraced her steps. Maybe she went that way…? It looked pretty familiar.

"Lady Fang!" Vanille's eyes widened at the sound of that voice. She recognized that! She sprinted to the direction, turning sharply to the left of the corridor to follow the sound. It was getting louder. She must be coming closer–

Her second sharp turn made her crash right on Elrohir. Elrohir's momentum was faster, making the collision fall against Vanille. Vanille fell back, her body hitting the ground with a loud thud. Numbing pain erupted all over her body and her head throbbed madly.

She tried to focus her eyes but couldn't get up at the weight. She squirmed. "Forgive me, my lady!" the weight quickly vanished. Vanille felt like throwing up but contained all her will not to.

"What–" she steadied her head and finally her vision cleared. Elrohir was sitting a few feet away from her, hair tousled in a mess. She smiled goofily. She never saw the elf lord in such disarray even after missions. He looked… human.

"Lady Vanille, forgive me," he stood and offered his hand to her.

"It's all right… I… think I was looking for you anyway," Vanille replied, slowly. Her stomach was settling and the throbbing was subduing. Gathering her thoughts, she continued, "Yes, I was looking for you and your brother. I want to tag along with this next mission," she paused considering her sentence, "um… please? I'll bring along Fang."

A vision of pink and blue came running to Fang's vision. She stood up to greet them. "What's all the rush?"

"Elrohir agreed to let me come!" Vanille happily announced, punching the air up for emphasis.

Fang looked at the elf lord. "That easy? You let her whine and beat me for an hour then you suddenly had a change of heart this instant?" Fang shook her head helplessly. "And then one wonders why I seriously consider you elves are all crazy. I'm waiting for an 'if' here."

"Well, he would let me come if you come too," Vanille replied.

Fang raised her brow this time. "So let me get this straight: You guys will only agree if two luggages are included?" She crossed her arms. "You lost me on your logic. I thought we're a liability… at least, she is."

"Hey!"

"And I can't say I'm an asset. I'm just good, not better."

"But my lady, this mission requires us something only you can provide," Elrohir bowed humbly.

"Babysitting abilities?" Fang replied sarcastically.

"No, my lady."

"Ok, what?"

"Time," Elrohir looked hard on Fang. Fang caught his voice and the meaning behind his words.

The silence came as the two observed each other's reaction. Vanille, however, didn't understand the situation. "But Fang doesn't have any more magic to cast Slow."

"That's not what Elrohir is saying, missy," Fang replied.

"Huh?"

Fang smiled viciously. "Elf lord here wants to ride a dragon. _That_ is my asset, and the only one here that has it. They are willing to let you come if I'm with you."

"So will you come?" Elrohir kept his humble bow, something he subconsciously reenacted when he was a young Ellon if he ever met a real dragon tamer. He kept his voice from faltering at the prospect of flight; at least he thought he did. He still remembered their important mission at the back of his mind but this–

He ignored the chuckle erupting from the older Pulsian warrior.

* * *

Elladan recounted the provisions once more and was about to head to the stables. Only, not a single horse was ready. Where is his brother now? The very thought worried him, not for his brother's safety, but the damaged houses those orcs will ba able to do. He was about to look for him when he saw Elrohir coming. He had two horses ready for the journey. Elladan inwardly frowned as his brother got closer. For one, Elrohir seemed to completely forget the horses are for journey and suddenly brought for the horses during their last riding. The beasts haven't recovered fully yet at their last skirmish so taking them would consume so much more time. There were no bags to store any of the food, clothes and weapons either. They were completely bare and– "What kind of preparation is this?"

"Did you prepare something for Lady Fang and Vanille as well?" Elrohir asked as he gave one of the horses to him.

Elladan looked him hard. This is not amusing as far as the older brother is concerned. "Elrohir, did you remember what Ada told us?"

"Yes."

"Then you are well aware this is no picnic."

"Yes."

Elladan frowned. "Then why?"

Elrohir checked what his brother had brought. Dried bread and some salted meat enough for two people for three days… or four people for a day. Enough time as he would say. "We're flying."

The two rode through the forest, Elrohir leading the way as they went outside the forest and west along the borders. Elladan watched as the mountains came to view. He thought about the Fellowship and how it was faring. It had been a solid two weeks and no news or rumors reach their ears. It only meant two things: the Fellowship had been successful in keeping their quest secret, or they were taken captive. How Elladan wished nothing happened.

His brother led him to a cliff, not so far out. It was already sunset. They made good time but in a completely wrong direction. Elladan haven't completely understood the plan yet and personally he didn't approve of the mysterious charade his brother was doing. There are lives at stake! The orcs could have ravaged it all already by the time they arrive there if they kept this pace. Pained memories of his mother surfaced at the tension. He sighed heavily. He hoped and prayed to the Valar high up he made the right decision.

Fang was there along with Vanille. So his brother wasn't lying the two are coming. He sighed inwardly. Please let this not be a picnic…

"All right then, since we're all here I just have to tell some things before we get a move on," Fang said, letting her attention be on both elf lords. "We can't have everyone hugging me while I both suffocate and maneuver Bahamut. Take anything to hold to him except the wings. He doesn't want that. We don't want you guys flying then free falling for who knows how long to the ground."

Elladan looked at his brother. He was smiling excitedly like a young Ellon well below his fifty years. He heard the name of Bahamut before, so where–

Fang touched her dormant L'Cie mark at her right arm and inwardly felt the Dragon's power surging. Light erupted from her arm. A crystal materialized. She grabbed it and broke it with her spear. "Bahamut!" she called his name. The sky quickly darkened and an insignia was formed from the clouds. Bahamut appeared and flew swiftly down to His Caller. "Miss me?" Fang touched his head. He bowed to meet her. "Apparently, we need you to cross lands here," she turned to her company. "Let's get a move on kiddies."

Fang was the first to hop on. Then she took Elladan's hand and pulled him up. He grabbed on to one of Bahamut's protruding scales. Next was Vanille, climbing to the Dragon's back. Finally, Elrohir slung himself behind.

"Want a countdown?" Fang teased. Vanille giggled. They took off.

The two brothers were deeply silent as they looked at the night sky closer than ever before, well beyond their imagination. The stars looked brighter and bigger, and the moon felt only a league away. The flight was steady and with the balance of the elves and experience of the two women, the company slowly loosened their grip on the beast. Fang kept a steady monitor to where they are going, occasionally counseled by Elladan on the right course (since Fang never knew where exactly Bree is).

Up in the sky, when everything is settling to a steady pace, Elladan looked away from the skies and looked back. Elrohir and Vanille were pointing at each constellation present and gawking like children. He paused to observe his brother more. He looked really happy and kept on laughing at her company. Elladan had to smile inwardly. Both of them treated Vanille like a younger sister, an infant in Elladan's eyes.

"You'd think the two were drugged or something," Fang said, her voice bringing him back away from his thoughts.

"I am relieved I wasn't the only one who noticed my brother is a bit… ah, younger?" Elladan smiled amusingly. He leaned to her and pointed to the shift in course. Fang steered. Elladan laughed as he heard from the back his brother and Vanille exclaiming excitedly at the new viewpoint.

Fang rolled her eyes. "He was completely of his bonkers Elladan."

"Bonkers?" Elladan asked.

"Oh yeah, right. Ye olde English to you too," Fang shook her head, "his mind, reason, logic… I could go on."

"I understand."

"You bet you did. Did you know he was bowing like some child to me and like I'm some high queen or something when he asked me to come along?" she laughed at the memory. "And Vanille was smiling like some hyperactive kid."

"I think excited is an understatement to this."

Fang smiled. "Yeah. It's a good thing you came and played along with your drug-induced brother to come here though." Fang turned her head around and looked at Elladan seriously. "Elrohir explained the situation to me and I want to help any way I can."

Elladan turned silent at the sudden shift of conversation. "Thank you, my lady. These missions mean a lot to us."

"And to me too," she replied getting quiet to make sure only Elladan can hear in the muting high wind, "I know what it feels like to lose a home."

The journey continued for hours and the sky reached its full darkness at night.

It was beautiful, felt beautiful, and Elrohir knew he would keep this memory forever. He felt he already touched the sky, with the wind more present and the light clearer. At the back of his mind, he somehow wished it would never end. Up here, everything seemed so peaceful. Up here, no true Darkness is present. There is no war and sad memories were an age of past.

But centuries of experience taught him something hard. Change is inevitable. "We're here," Elladan announced. They grabbed hold tightly again as Fang steered Bahamut to land. They ended on a small clearing just outside of Bree, hidden by an acre of trees.

As soon as they landed, Fang immediately dismissed her Eidolon. She felt her strength waning, concentrating much of her focus and energy to make sure Bahamut doesn't disappear into thin air. Although they had a back-up plan for that – Vanille's eidolon Hecatonchier will surely lessen the impact – it will still be a whole great deal of a problem.

She sat immediately on the grass and let her mind and will relax. She never felt so exhausted before and the pain from her spar against Vanille was coming back again. 'What the hell is wrong with me?' Fang cursed inwardly. The helplessness and weak feeling was coming to her and she hated it with a vengeance. It was driving her mad feeling like some damsel in distress. This is not her, not the Fang she knows back at Gran Pulse. She will be damned before she screams for any help.

They camped for the night, finding some shelter on a clearing with more trees pack and tightly knit. The brothers started preparing the meals while Vanille gathered some wood to start the fire. They left Fang take a short nap beside the biggest tree in the near radius. After all, she was the one who was always on the lookout for the last six hours of flight. When the meal was ready, they rose Fang up and the four dined together. It wasn't a grand feast the two always had back at Imladris but Fang was more than impressed when travelling with elves apparently includes salted meat, wine, real bread, and a hot tasty soup.

"This is not a picnic just so we're clear, yeah?" Fang asked. The two brothers looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

Vanille looked quizzically at Fang. "Wha–"

"Forget it," Fang snorted. She took a bite from her meat and watched the two sharing amused knowing smiles. "Like I said, these elves must be crazy."

After the meals and clearing up, they took turns to keep watch for the night. Well, sort of. Whenever Vanille wakes to check everyone, Elladan and Elrohir would still be awake, singing a silent hymn or conversing with each other. They would notice her presence of consciousness and tell her gently to continue sleeping peacefully tonight. She would turn her head then to the other direction and would see Fang, awake as well, watching silently the fire they made as it danced and flickered.

"Go back to sleep, missy," she would mutter and Fang would close her eyes like she would fall asleep at any moment. Only Vanille knew she wouldn't since Fang's breathing was always and always a constant slow rhythm whenever she falls asleep and she was still breathing in a steady awake pace before sleep would take over Vanille once more.

She dreamed so many things that night, of her childhood blurry and fuzzy, of her first journey with Fang more vivid yet marred with holes, of her journey with Sazh to Nautilus more pronounced, with Lightning more recurring, and lastly of Ragnarok like a glaring sun.

She also dreamed being a crystal and hearing a thousand hymns from the hall of Mandos, the Undying Lands, Beyond the Sea, and Eru's Great Hall, but all these she forgot when dawn greeted her with a new day.

By morning, they made a quick breakfast and washed by the nearest stream. They pack their gears, checked their equipments and weapons once more, before finally heading out to hunt the orcs about to raid Bree. With their good time, they didn't even need to worry about any direct assault from the village. The two elves decided to take the preemptive strike and gain the advantage of surprise.

The two began tracking where the orcs might have camped out. They spotted two groups which the four quickly dispatched off. Guerilla after guerilla and soon they noticed how every orc were trying to aim at Vanille's throat, apparently the easiest target standing still as the three hack and slash their way through. This earned Fang's rage enough that she focused to her Sentinel skills, the ones she already have innate, and counterattacked everyone who tried to get too close to Vanille, effectively out of her long range, with vicious precision.

They were a tandem, after all, her and Vanille. Fang trusted her friend way back. Vanille would swipe most enemies dead before they come too close. And when they do, Fang would be there to give them hell. Bit by bit their old dual skills came back when they were only two journeying to destroy Cocoon. Little by little, their old confidence to be more than an 'asset' as Fang put it became more apparent and rose as a true gem in combat. The skirmishes were becoming easier and quicker, day by day, with the woman's deadly combos and the two brother's vicious tactic of assault.

But where Vanille and Fang would always watch each other's back, the two brothers attacked like one fluid body, more dangerous than the two Pulsian warriors. Elladan would swipe the nearest enemy, followed closely by Elrohir from behind, unleashing two quick slices too fast to block. He would sidestep to the left, giving enough opening for Elladan to continue attacking the offender. The pattern would repeat, each taking turns to form a splendid fast display of swordsmanship with deadly precision. A sole person could never accomplish what the twins had done, the swinging never fast enough to parry, block, and thrust at the same second but with two elven warrior in one fluid motion it was a an undefeatable skill.

They downed a good dozen factions and from their tracks, the elves concluded there were only three more before the whole group is dispatched off. On their final night, Vanille slumped to the ground from sheer exhaustion and immediately fell asleep on their cover.

Elladan laughed at the sight. "Lady Vanille seemed very pleased and content with the fighting."

Fang was already sitting at the grass as well. But she would be damned before she would let the elves know she would collapse any minute as well. "It gives her exercise and something she could let that bundle of energy go somewhere." She tried to even her breathing. She hated to admit it but she was amazed at how little the two elves' lung activity changed. Maybe a thousand years or so really does something on your endurance.

"There is some truth to that," Elladan replied to what Fang said. "Shall we have dinner then now and finally rest for the night?"

Fang made a deep breath, happy much of her energy is coming back from the short rest. "I'll go get the wood for the fire."

"I'll help you," Elladan offered. He turned to his brother. "Will you be all right with Lady Vanille?"

Elrohir smiled well naturedly and waved his free hand carelessly. "I am more than capable to look after her and myself, brother, even with this wound I carry."

"Ok, but just when you're in a pinch, wake Vanille up and let her summon Hecatonchier."

"I… what?"

"Hecaton. It's her eidolon, summon, monster guardian whatever," Fang explained smiling confidently, "it's like my Bahamut." She laughed as she and Elladan walked away, last seeing Elrohir's priceless reaction.

It was an easy task and they finished the gathering in less than half an hour. However, the two didn't head back immediately. They lingered in the trees, Fang idly watching the leaves dance and occasionally fall down. Winter is coming and the chill is starting to creep. Fang involuntarily tugged her blue cloth. On extreme weather condition, her sash is not just a good cover of her body but also a rather large and warm blanket when you wrapped it around yourself properly. Not that the cold ever bothered Fang so much. She was more worried about Vanille, her fur cloak barely enough even for her tiny frame.

"Tomorrow we shall head back," Elladan suddenly said. "Going back home needs not much haste so you could rest back on the journey."

"Miss riding on horses so soon?" Fang smirked.

"Maybe," the elf lord replied vaguely and smiled. "Come, they are waiting, and Lady Vanille is most probably hungry the time she wakes."

Fang pulled her spear out of the ground and clasped it behind her. She picked up her collection of firewood and joined with him back to their camp.

Elrohir was next to Vanille, sleeping soundly. Fang couldn't believe she saw it as well. That was the first time she really saw an elf really asleep and not just humming for who knows what and how long. His weight was supported and somewhat arched to Vanille, like some overprotective guardian to make sure his subject is not within range of fire.

The two set their collections down and kept switching watch over the two. They didn't dine that night and opted to just have a decent breakfast.

* * *

The next morning, Elrohir rose from his wake. It had been a while since he properly slept during a skirmish. His wound wasn't even deep. He was still figuring out the cause of his exhaustion when he noticed neither Elladan nor Fang were present. He looked to his side and saw Vanille still sleeping soundly, all curled up and very close to him. He smiled inwardly. He noticed from the very first day here Vanille was a cuddling person; at least she might be if there was someone to cuddle with. She would always shift her position in sleep and hug herself. At the second night when she slept next to Fang, she unconsciously rolled closer to her friend's side. Fang woke up of course, noticed Vanille's proximity, shook her head helplessly, and begin to stroke Vanille's hair. She didn't went back to sleep then.

Vanille stirred in her sleep and started to wake up. She blinked her eyes a couple of times to shake the sleep of her eyes. She did a bit of stretch and rolled over closer to him, not that she knew. She sat up and her eyes met Elrohir. She blinked furiously.

"Good morning, Lady Vanille," Elrohir greeted.

"Um... good morning…?" she replied back, her tone confused. "By any chance am I dreaming?"

Elrohir looked thoughtful. "How so?"

"Well, I don't usually woke up with an elf lying next to me," Vanille said in a nonchalant way, deciding she really was dreaming. "I never dreamt of you before though. Just Fang… and Lightning… and Sazh… Hope…" she treaded on.

Elrohir smiled gently at her. "No one I know?"

"Um… there's Sauron."

Elrohir froze at the name. What did she just said? The Enemy?

Vanille continued talking, unaware at what she was really saying, still thinking it was a dream. Her eyes were still half-closed. "He's my Fal'Cie, you know…" then she smiled, "but don't worry Elrohir-in-my-head, I won't follow his Focus. I'll be a good proper Cie'th after this." Vanille suddenly laughed. "Who knows; maybe I'll immediately turn into a Cie'th stone with my superior disobedience to his will."

Silence swept the two of them, Vanille silently humming a distant song from Oerba, and Elrohir gathering the load of information his friend just dropped.

Did she really mean what she said?

Before Elrohir could fully understand all the implications of her words, a pair of footsteps came closer to them. Elrohir's trained ears told him it belonged to Fang. He looked up and saw Elladan beside her, his footsteps mute with lightness. Elrohir felt Vanille froze this time. She probably realized it wasn't a dream after all.

"Elrohir…" she barely managed to say his name. She looked pained and helpless at him. "I…"

"Morning to you love birds," Fang greeted grinning from ear to ear.

Elrohir watched as Vanille's composure immediately changed. "What?" she flatly exclaimed.

"Oh you don't need to explain yourself missy," Fang laughed, "I know about your undying declaration of love to elf lord here."

They continued to bicker, Fang laughing at her little teasing as Vanille followed behind, stuttering and being an all around incredulous.

Elladan sat next to his brother at the empty space Vanille left. He smiled. "Well?"

"Well what?" Elrohir asked back, clearly confused at where his brother was going at.

"I'm not hearing any objections from you," Elladan pointed out. "Do you also have an undying declaration of love to our beautiful friend?"

"What?" Elrohir exclaimed, his tone mirroring Vanille's. "I don't–" he stopped as he saw his brother laughing.

"I jest, my brother. I jest."

As they ate breakfast, or rather lunch when Elrohir and Vanille found out, Fang and Elladan recounted what they did earlier that morning, finishing of the last groups of orcs. Beside Fang sporting a bruise from her right hip, the two seem unscathed and only covered in sweat. They started heading back, opting to walk for a while instead of gaining any leagues by their first day journeying home. They stopped at the first river they encountered and washed any grime and dirt as much as they can. Fang literally dived into the cool water and let the cold numb the throbbing pain. She was the only one daring enough to get wet all over, with her clothes easiest to dry. They rested for the rest of the afternoon, deciding to walk instead at night when it was cool and travels will be more comfortable. Nothing much happened. They had to keep Fang away from harassing any small creatures, she chasing them in good fun.

The company felt light and carefree, their voices never hushed and full of laughter every minute. Vanille would dance along their path, the brothers singing an old light song, and Fang running back and forth from the trees. The four acted like children, each unconsciously reminiscing a past an age ago, when everything looked like without a care in the world. The trees enclosed them, shielding any spy that could be watching. At their first night back to Imladris, everything was definitely peaceful.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading. Any questions regarding on the story are fully welcome. Reviews are love!


	9. Call for Arms

**Chapter 9: The Call for Arms**

The company of four took a week before they finally arrived back at Imladris. Vanille was sprinting by the time she took sight of the gate, eager to come back home with a good bed, soft pillow, and probably hibernate for a good two days. It had been a memory the last time she really did this much outing. Her body was exhausted and completely surprised at the long walk. Her feet collapsed at it reached the opening. Glorfindel was at his horse, about to leave when he noticed a bright shade of pink sitting on the grass beside Asfaloth.

"Well met Lady Vanille!" the elven warrior greeted, clearly pleased to see the young woman well and unharmed. "I trust you aren't the only one who will arrive here?"

Vanille could only nod, catching her breath.

A moment later, the two elves and Fang arrived. "Hey!" Fang nodded at Glorfindel.

"Well met as well lady Fang," Glorfindel bowed.

"Any news from Imladris?" Elladan inquired.

Glorfindel was silent before carefully replying, "It would do in better if Lord Elrond would relay it." His voice was grave and he bowed his head lower. "These are indeed dark times," he sighed and looked determined, "Still, I have my own duty to do young lords that needs immediate attention. Farewell thee well, lords and ladies." He spoke to Asfaloth and off they sped and disappeared.

"What could have happened?" Vanille voiced what everyone was thinking.

They were greeted upon arrival, though they made the formalities short. Elrond was not present, prompting the twins that the news is more serious than they expected. They decided to make a quick wash up and immediately proceed to Lord Elrond's study after.

Back in her room, Vanille quickly put off her weapon and stripped down her clothes to wash the grime and dirt more quickly from her body with the towels the elves prepared. She tossed her pink battle gear at the nearest basket and quickly donned back to the regular elvish dress. She raised her skirt to run more freely, and with her pigtails gone, she dashed straight to Elrond's study.

The room was one of the largest in Imladris, and among that possessed the grandest of murals. Shelves donned most of the space and it was all filled with books, scrolls and artifacts mortals would spend lifetime to read and never finish. There was a large window on the wall nearest outside of the garden of Imladris at it was there where the biggest table was placed. Elrond sat behind it, his stance bent and grave.

Fang never saw the elf lord in this state, which to her is anything but good. He was the stronghold of this place and his mere short of will could never be good on his land. She unconsciously gripped her spear tighter. What exactly happened?

"Ada, what news fell from Imladris?" Elladan asked when the four of them were at his father's study. They were all seated in a circular plan, Vanille close to Fang and the twins on each side of Elrond.

"A messenger came," Elrond said, beckoning for his visitor. From his side Vanille and Fang only noticed now the faint dark green shadow moved and stood in front of the four. It was an Elleth clothed in dark green robes, a bit tattered at the end probably because of her journey. Her hair was gold unlike the residents of Imladris. She bowed in greeting.

"_Well met, Allinor,_" Elladan greeted in Sindarin.

"_Well met Lord Elladan, Lord Elrohir,_" she replied in even tone.

Vanille and Fang kept silent, concentrating hard at the simple conversation that happened. Fortunately, the two had enough gist of the language to recognize the simple greetings.

"_What are the tides of Lothlorien to send you of all messengers?_" Elladan asked, his tone serious, for Allinor was the swiftest of all messengers on Lothlorien, and bearer most of ill tidings that must be relayed as quick.

"What did he say?" Fang asked at Elrohir.

"He asked why Lothlorien sent her of all the elves," he replied. "This is not good. Allinor is a daughter of the higher lords in Lothlorien. She rarely goes her trade for fear of her safety. Her very presence here…"

"Is like some omen of death?" Fang said, guessing much how Elrohir would end his sentence.

Allinor recited her message, never blinking and pausing for a second. Elrond's head was kept low. It contained a mere three sentences, and all three short and brief. Fang however didn't understand a word. Vanille only caught a few words. Allinor's accent was very different from the elves of Imladris and even her sentence formation sounded bizarre to Vanille.

The room was silent when Allinor finished reciting her message. Elrohir's face was hidden in his hair.

"What's wrong?" Vanille asked the million gil question for her and Fang.

"The Fellowship passed Lothlorien. Mithrandir is not with them. He fell in the hands of a Balrog in Moria."

Elladan frowned deeply as Elrohir translated the message. "These are grave tidings indeed."

"A Balrog is a beast from Morgoth, clothed in dark flame and magic," Elrond explained at the confused face of Fang. "It is good tidings they were even alive. Mithrandir however–"

Vanille gasped. "You mean… Mithrandir is dead?"

The silence answered her question.

"Tea, dear?"

"No thank you, Mister Bilbo," Vanille replied back, "I'm not hungry."

"Still upset about Gandalf?" Bilbo offered gently. "Oh child…"

Bilbo limped his way to Vanille's side and embraced her in a grandfather way. Vanille quivered at the touched and sobbed. It was too much. Vanille felt one of the connections to her old life was cut. Her conversations with Gandalf, though always vague, always reminded her of home in a not so sad way. Reminiscing of Oerba and Cocoon felt peaceful and reconciling with the old wizard. His last words even comforted her, given her strength to carry on.

"He was a good old friend," Bilbo narrated, "he was the one who led me to my first adventure. It was well and good with him company… I miss him too." He smiled encouragingly. "But child, you shouldn't let those tears fall so much. My lad Frodo is still alive, the company is well. Not all are lost."

"You're right," Vanille complied. She sniffled before calming down.

"Now, how about hearing this nice little poem I made when you two young ladies left," he headed back to his table and gathered a number of papers. "This one is about Smaug."

He started narrating his piece. Vanille only half-listened on her part, with Bilbo's voice becoming a steady and good hold of reality if ever her thoughts stray too far. After two hours of recitation, Vanille snapped back into her thoughts when silence settled in the hobbit's room. She looked up and saw Bilbo asleep, his head hung low and his piece gripped rather loosely on his right hand. He looked so much like a peaceful sight that Vanille for a moment forgot the world and the time passing. Bilbo looked so peaceful and content. He seemed very much reconciled on Gandalf's death, no matter how much sadness was in his eyes whenever the wizard's name is mentioned.

If Bilbo moved on, why couldn't she then? Vanille closed her eyes and made her prayer stance. She should try to be at peace as well. It wouldn't do any good being depressed besides getting your L'Cie mark speeding up to open its eyes. Vanille quietly slipped away from the old hobbit's room. It had been a tiring day. Maybe a good rest and an early sleep are good for her brimming anxiety. She followed Bilbo's act and proceeded to go back to her own room.

When she did finally arrived at her own quarters, she was more than surprised when she saw Elrohir sitting at her chair, the one nearest to the window. He was dressed similar to his father's robes, something Vanille never saw before, apart from when she saw him earlier in Elrond's study.

After all, the Ellon was always garbed in either the warrior's clothes or traveler's vestments. Most of the elves here are, except for Elrond and his council. Looking at Elrohir in his costume now was like looking at a past Elrond, younger in eyes of experience. Vanille never noticed, until now, but the twins looked so much like their father.

"Lady Vanille, I have been meaning to ask you about matters," Elrohir said, standing up and offering the seat he occupied a while ago. When Vanille didn't budge nor replied he continued. "Your dream last week – that is what I wish to speak of."

"Oh, yes, about that," Vanille replied uneasily, looking away and fidgeting her hands, "It's nothing really. Just a dream, like you said."

"It doesn't seem that way," Elrohir frowned. "Your eyes betrayed you Lady Vanille. They showed fear."

Before Vanille could answer, a pair of loud footsteps echoed. "Vanille? Are you in there?" the two were stunned as the voice came nearer and the owner finally entered Vanille's room.

When Fang entered, her eyes were immediately greeted at the sight of the two standing at opposite corners and as though there wouldn't be any time they would go near each other in two feet radius.

She crossed her arms and turned to Vanille by the doorway. "Ok, what in Atmos's name is going on here?" then she looked hard on Elrohir. "And what are _you _doing inside Vanille's room?"

A long painful silence followed. Vanille wanted to disappear right this instant. This is so bad. If Elrohir would even dare open his mouth, all hell will break loose and Vanille would find herself the next second on top of Bahamut's back riding to Mount Doom. Should Elrohir even mention the word 'Focus' and 'Fal'Cie' in front of Fang, her friend might make all the connections Vanille carelessly planted.

What if Fang demanded Vanille to 'cast' Cure? She could never fake it, with her power already brimming. Fang would surely know is she was faking or not and she would eventually know the truth.

"Lady Fang, I have been meaning to ask Lady Vanille about matters she does not want to disclose," Elrohir explained, his voice steady and serious. "And if she wouldn't answer me, then perhaps you would enlighten me more."

"About what?" Fang asked, her attention completely now at him.

"It's about her–"

"Wait!" Vanille screamed, drowning Elrohir's voice. "Please! Yes, I'll answer you. Just…" she lost her voice, completely without any words to convey what she wanted only Elrohir to hear and certainly within a thousand miles away from Fang's presence. She was already on her knees, something she didn't notice until now.

Her voice's echo settled and turned into a dead silence, and the two were all exchanging glances at each other and back to the newcomer, gauging the situation in each perspective, Vanille desperate to keep secret, and Elrohir keen to finding out the truth.

After a whole excruciating minute for Vanille, Fang suddenly burst out laughing. "Ok, what? I seriously have no idea what you guys are talking about." She turned her whole attention to Elrohir. "Since missy here have every intention to stop you from asking, I'll ask you. What were you saying again?"

Elrohir spared another quick glance at Vanille and almost regretted it. She was in near tears and completely looked desperate. This is not what he was planning for. "I…" he sighed heavily. He made a silent prayer to Manwe no word he will utter now will go outside this room. He looked at Fang seriously and continued. "I want to ask Lady Vanille permission to court her."

Another dead silence. Vanille was already considering casting Death upon herself. That is definitely _not _what she is asking for. That is exactly like spinning lies more than a spider could even weave in a web. Fang was already looking at her, her face Vanille did not even dare describe. "And?" Fang pressed.

"And what?" Vanille retaliated back, her voice unnaturally high and gone at the last syllable.

Fang shrugged, not getting any of Vanille's defensive signals. "You don't need to murder my ears missy. He just asked you. You could calmly say no." She looked apologetically at Elrohir. "I'm sorry, but Vanille here was never asked on a date before. You're the first one who asked her, so be gentle."

Elrohir was considering jumping outside the window as a means of escape from this whole fiasco. He was never good at coming up the best lies. His brother does that. Back then, Elladan would make the story. Elrohir would just be at the side, making the story come 'true'. Why is Vanille even that desperate to keep the secret from her friend? Elrohir paused to reconsider. Lady Fang was the only one Vanille truly has as the last connection to her world so it was highly irrational to distance herself from Fang. What kind of information did he exactly possess?

He didn't have much time to reflect on his options since Fang was staring him down like what his mother did before when he was just a young Ellon caught stealing one of the ponies in the stables. What was he about to do again? Courting, right…

A thousand years of life and experience and Elrohir for his life never truly _asked_ an Elleth before. Their elvish practice involves simply of gatherings with elves, intimate conversation with your dance partner that caught your eye, asking _her father_ or guardian for permission, plighting of troth, then marriage. There is no step involving of asking the Elleth first, let alone asking her anything. For elves, it was _always_ a shared understanding. Few that did not mostly end in tragedies.

Elrohir bit his lip hard. Courting was something he learned during his travels with the Dunadain. He recounted hard on the proceedings. It was a very faint memory and certainly forgettable.

"Well?" Fang drained the silence. "Do I have to go outside?"

"Please?" Vanille piped, getting her voice back. "This is sort of…"

Fang scoffed. "Fine, go get your fairytale. I'll be in my room when you need ol' Fang." She walked toward the door. "Wake me when dinner's ready, all right missy?"

Vanille dumbly nodded. "All right. See you at dinner."

The two followed Fang's footsteps as it descended until its echo was definitely out of both Vanille and Elrohir's earshot. When they were quite sure no one is listening for them again, both let out a heavy sigh of relief they weren't even aware of earlier. Vanille completely slumped to the floor and brought her hand to her face. "This is awful. Of all things you said, it has to be _that_."

Elrohir bowed apologetically. "Forgive me; it was the spur of the moment. I'm afraid I was never good at weaving lies. My brother excels at that. Still," he looked thoughtful, "it proves to be the most sensible since Lady Fang considered it without a second thought. Do mortal women always cry when she is asked?"

Vanille stared at Elrohir like he somehow grew another head. "What are you talking about? Our conversation is _anything but_ courting."

Elrohir nodded understandably. "I see, yet Lady Fang accepted it. Is it then you always act so towards similar issues?"

Vanille frowned. "I don't!" she replied defensively.

Elrohir studied her face and sighed. "You are an open book."

"What?"

He pointed at her eyes, bending down to her level to meet hers. "They change when you are anxious and they are anything but calm when the truth is held back. Tell me, why do you intend to keep what I ask away from Lady Fang? Why do you opt to run away?"

_Run away…_ Elrohir couldn't have put a better word to pierce Vanille's heart. She bowed her head and let her bangs cover her face, away from anyone's sight, away from this elf to see. "Why? Why do you keep asking why? Do you have to know?" she brought her knees closer to her face and hugged them tight. "You can't help. No one can. It wouldn't matter if I told you or not." She took a quick look at Elrohir determined. "I'm tired. Please let me sleep."

Elrohir didn't want to admit it, but he never felt so frustrated in the last hundred years. He risked making a big lie in front Imladris through Fang and still Vanille doesn't trust him. He stood up. "As you wish Lady Vanille. Fare thee well until dinner."

"Fare thee well, Elrohir," Vanille replied quietly as she watched another friend go out. As the door closed, her body collapsed at the wooden floor without any plans to go back to the soft pillow and bed.

That dinner…

It was a dead silent throughout the meal. Arwen was beside her father and quietly ate. Fang sat at the other side and idly played with her food a bit before putting it to her mouth. Vanille sat beside her, concentrating seriously at the vegetable in front of her. Erestor was at the opposite side of Arwen, conversing silently and sparingly with Elrond. He made a few curious glances at the two women's curious antics, Vanille with her staring contest and Fang with her cat and mouse. Elladan was watching his brother intently. He couldn't put the right words now but his brother was acting a bit… different. Too stiff, or somewhere along those lines; he was figuring it out all the while. Elrohir sat opposite to him, mechanically eating what is on his plate at the moment. Beside him sat Bilbo, falling asleep at the middle of the course. It would have been a surprising thing for a hobbit to fall asleep during eating but Bilbo was a very old hobbit, too old even for his race. He was sleeping most of the time now and he looked more bent with age.

When it ended, everyone quietly left with a silent good night.

It was, after all, still during the mourning for their old friend.

Fang slipped quietly out of her room, out of the open window and jumped down. She landed with a soft thump on the garden's grass and did a quick look at her surroundings if anyone spotted her yet. She picked her spear up and began to walk toward the nearest wall. She disappeared behind the trees, climbing one of the branches and sticking her spear to the wall's small cracks. She swung herself and with a quick leap and a high jump, she was out.

Sensing freedom outside the protective walls, she took off with the wind.

She didn't bother deciding which path to take. She didn't need any of them anyway. After all, what mattered tonight is to simply get away. She dodged each oncoming trees and jumped high over the lower branches. The simple act reminded her much of her heritage, what she was born for, a dragoon by blood, a proud race that claimed the blood of the legendary Kain Highwind. Heck, she even named her spear after him.

The Yun clan… Oerba Yun Fang… she gripped her spear tighter and ran faster. In truth, she was never the fastest, but the wind is always in her favor and always there to catch her breath. Her sprint took about an hour and took her feet to the cliff she summoned Bahamut when they went to Bree. Her head met the sky and she found herself watching the stars, hypnotized at the silent comfort it's giving her. What anxiety she's feeling now to distinguish the comfort she is feeling now, she was still figuring it out.

That was the only reason, really, apart from her reckless impulse to just took off. She is starting to miss the wind beneath her feet anyway. What was she anxious about now? Everything is all right now. Sure she still hasn't gotten over being a complete human but…

"What's wrong with me now?" she said frustratingly to no one in particular. She was getting tired feeling helpless. What's worse, this one seemed it doesn't even have a reason. She was just fretting like some sissy. Something is wrong, something is missing, something isn't fitting what it wants to fit, something… something is about to go bad, really bad – like Ragnarok bad.

She found herself touching her right arm and looking at her dormant L'Cie mark.

"You're always there, even if everything moved on," she muttered. She closed her eyes and muttered a mute Calling. Bahamut appeared and wrapped its gigantic wings around her. She opened her eyes and muttered a mute Sending. Bahamut disappeared. The cold wind immediately whipped her skin. "Sorry big guy," she apologized to her last companion, "just wanted to check if everything's all right."

In truth, Fang wanted shout to the heavens.

At Bahamut's wake, she somehow got a funny feeling what she was worried about. And somehow she was not so much surprised it had to do with her certain redhead friend.

Erestor was strolling along Imladris' corridors, unable to sleep tonight. He was at his second round when he spotted Arwen sitting at a bench, caressing a white flower in her hand. She was already in her nightgown and no jewelry was present in her body. She was probably about to go to sleep. Only, she seemed not to move away from her position anytime soon. Erestor decided to approach the Elleth.

"Well met Undomiel," Erestor greeted.

Arwen looked up and smiled warmly at her old teacher. "Well met Lord Erestor. What brings my patient teacher here?"

"I was about to ask you as well," he replied, "As for me, I cannot sleep."

Arwen twirled the white flower, "As for me as well."

"Do you worry for Estel?"

"Always," Arwen replied, closing her eyes and holding the bud nearer to her, "And I find myself in deeper worry recently. To feel such sorrow," she paused, taking a breath to not let her tears fall so soon, "They only started the journey and a Balrog already hindered their way. I could not… I could not imagine what other terror and hardship the Fellowship shall face." She faced her teacher and let the tears flow now, "But on Estel, Lord Erestor, my heart is troubled more so on Master Frodo. His burden is great, a thousand fold than the others."

Erestor embraced her tight and hung his head low. Arwen was right, and everything hung in such balance. Everyone here in Imladris could only wait and strain ears for any news and rumors that could fly abroad. "These are dark times indeed, my lady. And for this teacher's wisdom, I could not give our Evenstar comfort."

Arwen sighed and leaned to his embrace. "None could give. But you to be here is enough. Thank you Lord Erestor."

"Always Undomiel. Always."

Elrohir was at the front garden that night. He let his feet carry him to wherever part of the Imladris, mostly occupied to his thoughts. Most of it was mourning for Gandalf, reminiscing his childhood years with the wizard. Of the brothers, Mithrandir spend time with him more, telling stories of the Old Age, and each memory was always filled with childhood wonder. Mithrandir awoke the scholar in him, and eventually followed his studies with Lord Erestor. And although he was a skilled warrior as well, Elladan is greater than him – learning his greater years with Lord Glorfindel instead of Lord Erestor – and a better battle tactician. It was one of the very few qualities that distinguished him from his brother. At least, that's what he sees.

He thought about Celebrian, his mother, his most beloved and fairest to his eyes. All his memories to her were always of happiness, her smile never faltering, and her love always gentle… Elrohir stopped the train of thought. He didn't want to continue relieving the memories. It wouldn't end well. Of all things Elrohir hated ever since he was but a mere elf-ling is a sad ending.

He continued to walk. Soon, his path led him to meet someone. His brother Elladan was standing still at a corner, his eyes fixed upon a scene before him. "Well met brother," Elrohir said, bringing his presence known to Elladan.

Elladan blinked in surprise before turning toward him. "Well met indeed Elrohir," he replied. He smiled and bit his lip. "Have you been here for a while?"

Elrohir shook his head. "However, your attention is fixed upon a sight. What does your eyes took interest?"

"Our sister," Elladan answered, beckoning for Elrohir to come over. "And our teacher, Lord Erestor. It is a treasured sight." Elladan looked away and turned to him. "But now, let us give them privacy. I shall turn my interest to you know, my brother. What thoughts are in your mind?"

"I'm afraid I do not know what you exactly ask," Elrohir replied, frowning to find the right words, "Mostly of Mithrandir and his memories with me, our Amme Celebrian, you…"

"And Lady Vanille?"

Elrohir sighed. "No brother, not her. In truth, I do not want to delve into thoughts concerning her," he glanced at the direction of where Vanille's room stood and looked back at Elladan frustratingly. "Friendship requires trust, does it not?"

Elladan raised a brow, not know where his brother is getting at. "True."

"Do you consider your allies friends if they are not to be trusted?"

Elladan frowned. "I would not consider anyone an ally if I do not trust him," he replied. "What is wrong, Elrohir? Does Vanille not trustworthy?"

Elrohir looked at his brother long and hard before turning away. "No. But, it seems our friendship with Lady Vanille does not amount to give us enough trust."

"Is it?" Elladan looked thoughtful. "Is that what troubles you since dinner?"

Elrohir smiled bitterly. "I could not hide secrets from you, can I my brother? But no, that is not what troubles me." He paced a few steps, gathering words to best express the situation. "I would have understood should she not disclose it to me. After all, I am not her closest friend. It is when she refused as well to disclose any information to Lady Fang that caught my concern. She keeps a very deep secret and its nature reveals for me as dark and foreboding."

"How so Elrohir?"

"Secrets do not let its keeper down to her knees," Elrohir answered, "bar it goes ill to its keeper."

Elladan turned seriously to his brother and carefully searched his face. "I see in your eyes you caught a glimpse of her secret."

"Brother, I believe…" he paused, then continued, "I believe I already know, only that I lack the word's meaning to fully comprehend it." He frowned and looked deep in thought, "But should I trust the sight given to me, even if it is weaker than our sister's, I fear it concerns great power and the dark forces."

The brothers remained silent throughout the night, before settling to sleep.

Three days passed and on that fourth night Elrond found his self strolling outside Imladris and walking along the forest path, treading on the soiled path but eventually straying away. The elves' singing occupied the air most of the time and Elrond relived of old memories, war and peace alike. Back when he was a young Ellon, serving under Gil-galad. He remembered his skirmishes and battles, his founding of Imladris as the Homely House, and his start of family with Celebrian. He felt himself smile at her memory, her golden hair much likened to her mother Galadriel, her smile sweet and light, and her passion strong as her father Celeborn. It was the most beautiful centuries Elrond cherished, besides his last years with his own brother Elros. He remembered Celebrian being strong beside him, especially when she was about to give birth to their twins. Labor for the elves were more dangerous compared to Men, and their exhaustion causes much life extinguished in them. Celebrian's spirit held stubbornly, refusing to give up, wanting to raise her own children.

When she conceived Arwen, her labor was greater. Still, she lived on and during those years when their family was complete Elrond felt what his brother Elros felt and why he chose the mortal life instead of claiming his elvish blood. Children. Elros wanted to have many children and his line to continue in hundreds of generation to follow. What Celebrian gave to him, Elrond could never thank her enough to give him this much joy.

And he loved Arwen deeply. He remembered the years when time is idle and he and Celebrian would simply watch Arwen dance, sing, and ran on Imladris, flowers following her path. Celebrian would laugh at her daughter's sight riding on her first horse and insisting to try Asfaloth.

Elrond continued his walk and soon found himself out of the forest clearing and looking directly at the sitting Fang watching the stars intently. A campfire was built and he could make out more ashes and burnt wood scattered around, indicating she had been doing this for the past couple of days.

Fang might have noticed his presence since she turned around and looked very surprised to see of all elves, it was Lord Elrond himself.

Fang didn't know sure what to make of it. For one, and she was quite sure of this, no one noticed her escapades. Two, if someone would, she bet either of the twins would found out. Three, it might be Vanille as well. Four, either Boromir or Legolas would spot him. Besides not considering her last option is far from possible, she certainly wasn't expecting him. "Uh… good evening?"

Elrond smiled and made a little bow of acknowledgement, "Well met at this night as well, Lady Fang." He walked toward her and joined in to watch the stars. "Are you alone in this detour?"

Fang shrugged. "Pretty much. Didn't expect any company anyway." She scratched her head, feeling a little awkward. "No offense King-lord, but what made you come here?" she asked, picking her words a bit more careful, opting for that question instead of the normal 'What the hell are you doing here?'

"Nothing of particular, my lady," he replied. "And I am no king of any land. I renounced that title before it was even given to me."

Fang smiled at the subtle humility Elrond showed. She relaxed a bit more and stretched her arms, "Well, you pretty much are now since you run this place and all." She laughed suddenly, "You know, you're all right. When those creases in your head disappear, you could really pass as the twin's older brother." She shook her head, "Man, I still can't believe you guys are really a thousand years old. Doesn't life ever get boring?"

"When you are with you loved ones, it is not so."

"Yeah, you're probably right. You're still here not going crazy after all," Fang considered. "Lord Elrond – Is that all right for your title? – do you think me and Vanille will be able to go back home? Arwen said you know more things than her, living literally a lot more than her."

Elrond studied Fang's face before answering, "Does your heart still yearn for the distant land?"

She looked thoughtful and frowned a little. "Now that I've been for a while… I guess it's all right to stay after all. Home's home wherever it is," she grinned, "as long as I have Vanille around. I'll surely miss Gran Pulse though, and I'll probably won't see Lightning and the others but," her grin softened and turned into a sad smile, "I can't hold on to the past forever, I know that. I'll break if I don't move on."

Elrond smiled warmly at her. "It is good my daughter's words healed you lady Fang."

"Yeah, let her know, will you? So, do you think we'll be able to go back home?"

"The world is older than me, lady Fang. And although I could not think of a way, it is no indication there is no hope of going back."

Fang went silent, contemplating on his words and looking at him at the same time. His brow wasn't knitted together and he was staring at the stars, probably reminiscing something, although Fang for the life of her could not think of anything what the elf lord could possibly be thinking. He looked… peaceful. Fang grinned inwardly at the sight. "Has anyone told you you're handsome? Beautiful?" He looked back at her, surprised at the change of subject. Fang laughed at his blank reaction. "Arwen takes after you, except her eyes. They're different. Got any blood of the fairest maiden or something?"

Elrond laughed at the question, becoming more comfortable at his guest's company. "Now I see what you and lady Vanille share, childlike curiosity."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Eagerness to know," he answered. "My mother is Elwing, who is the daughter of Dior, who is the son of Luthien, daughter of Melian the Maia and High King Thingol."

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Elrond smiled a bit, "It is known in our history Luthien was the fairest child of all children of Illuvatar. And disregarding a father's pride, Imladris' Evenstar is said to have Luthien's beauty and known as the fairest child in her Age."

Fang didn't need a history book to understand Elrond was talking about Arwen. She was, after all, Beauty Incarnate.

The two continued watching the stars until Fang was sure the early dawn is coming. She stood up and dusted any dust on her Pulsian clothes. Elrond followed suit. Together, they opted to walk back to the main trail and finally arrived at the gates of Imladris.

Five days passed.

Allinor was midway on her journey back to Lothlorien when she stopped as she spotted Thandilien, another messenger from Lothlorien sped on the way to Imladris.

"_What news befell of Lothlorien to send two messengers on the span of weeks?_" Allinor said, getting off her horse to greet her fellow elf.

Thandilien, upon noticing her presence, stopped and bowed low, "_Well met Lady Allinor. Lothlorien most sees it fit to bring away mourning at times it should now be needed._" He smiled and laughed jovially, "_Mithrandir is alive!_"

And Allinor, always somber on her nature and left hope after many of her friends left to Valinor, smiled genuinely for the first time and joined in the laughter. "_Let wind take haste on your feet, Thandilien! You bear things more great than tidings; it is faith and hope that you most carry!_"

Thandilien was shouting by the time he arrived at the gates of Imladris. And on his words were only of three things, "_Mithrandir is alive!_"

"Dunadains of the South, our kin and beloved friend, Aragorn son of Arathorn, calls for our aid. Battle awaits on his quest and more arms are needed," Halbarad said, taking position as leader to his men. "The Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien sent his messenger more than a message of great tidings on Mithrandir's part, but the hope we wish to keep aflame. We should be there when Gondor calls for aid! Our once beloved land will not be sundered again!"

Loud cheers erupted from the Rangers and thirty were called to arms, including Halbarad as their working leader. They were quick to dissolve in groups to prepare for the coming long journey. Food, water, clothing, swords, and horses were gathered.

And along with them, the sons of Elrond made their preparations as well to fight alongside the Rangers.

Arwen ran as fast as her feet could carry her towards her father's study. She quickly knocked at her father's door before she was admitted. She was greeted at the sight of her father conversing with Erestor and the new messenger Thandilien. Elrond looked at his daughter and beckoned her to sit. "The winds change swifter than water. And only we could hold the river's momentum. The pieces are set and war will inevitably happen."

"_Are there news on Aragorn?_" Arwen asked Thandilien.

"_Only of what Mithrandir plans to do,_" Thandilien replied. "_He will meet with the Ranger and his company. As for his future actions, no rumors passed our ears._"

"_As there is then,_" Arwen said before she remained silent.

"_There will be great numbers against each stronghold of the free people, that much is certain,_" Elrond said, "_Gondor shall bear the deadliest blow and it there help is greatly needed. But of Rohan…_"

"_Rohan shall have its blow sooner and swifter,_" Erestor said, nodding on Elrond's concern, "_Mithrandir should be swift to find the fellowship. Saruman's evil is at work and the life of that land hangs in delicate balance._"

All the elves agreed. Then, Elrond looked solemnly at his daughter. "Arwen, I have looked as far as my Sight could carry me and many have been revealed before me. However, much yet is uncertain and without Lady Galadriel's help, not all we need is given."

Arwen nodded understanding her father's words. "Of course Ada. My Sight," she closed her eyes, recounting as much detail was the World had given her, "tells of Death and its path, yet it is what we hope." She looked at her father confused. "It is the strangest I have Seen. And for what, I cannot fully understand."

"I have Seen it too," Elrond nodded. "And from what you reveal my daughter, it is what I know. Our hope lies to the Paths of the Dead, the ally Aragorn must call when hope is at its smallest light."

"Is this the message you wish my brothers to bring?" Arwen asked, "To let Aragorn walk the Paths of the Dead?" As Elrond nodded to his daughter, Arwen left to leave the council to her father's hands. If this is the stake to keep hopes burning, then…

_Estel to live… Hope to live._

The Rangers rallied their numbers and saddled their horses for the journey. Elladan and Elrohir were already horsed and leading the Company along with Halbarad at the front. Arwen was at her brother's side and giving them her blessings and their father's for Elrond's absence.

"The Paths of the Dead is what shall give you hope," Arwen said to Elladan. "Aragorn shall lead them to where war has conquered all hearts of losing."

"Give our Ada Elrohir and my love should we not return," Elrohir said, kissing his sister tenderly on her brow.

"You shall," Arwen replied smiling sadly, "Amme is also waiting." She back off, giving her brothers space to sped off the distance. The Rangers immediately followed, dust covering much to her knees. Their image swiftly disappeared as they hurriedly sped to Aragorn's help.

A/N: I think my chapters are getting longer. Yeah, I think that's a good sign. So what do you think guys? Good? Bad? Starting to get boring? I swear, we'll be moving to a new arc and that has more action. I wanted the girls to settle down first and resolve any fleeting attachment to Gran Pulse before going on to save another world. We can't have either of them break down at the middle of a fight, can we? So review and I might update faster.


	10. Felt Like It

**Chapter 10: Felt like it**

"They're leaving."

"Seems like it."

Vanille glanced carefully at her friend from the corner of her eyes. Fang stood still watching from Vanille's window as the Company sets off to some quest… to war, if more accurately put. "Don't you want to catch up?" Vanille asked.

Fang scoffed. "Now why would we do that?"

Vanille glared at her friend. "Fang, there is _war_. We have to help them. Otherwise, there wouldn't be anything to protect."

"Look Vanille, don't you think we had enough war on our own to last a lifetime? Aren't you tired of fighting? This might be our world now but there is no guarantee we'd be really helpful. Besides," Fang frowned, "we can't just go barging like you have your Medic role up and kicking. Our bleeding won't stop now that we're back human. I can't always call on Bahamut with me fainting every now and then."

"But," Vanille stopped as she tried processing what just Fang said. "You _fainted_?"

Fang turned away. "The last two nights I took Elrond out for a ride with Bahamut. The Eidolon disappeared when we took off from the cliff."

"What?" Vanille gasped.

"A good few hundred feet above the ground," Fang recounted. "I fainted of course, that's why Bahamut dematerialized. I was lucky I had Elrond with me."

Vanille frowned, clearly not getting Elrond's presence any helpful at the past situation. "But you both fell… how?"

"I… I swore silence on that," Fang said, shrugging helplessly. "Must be some sort of elf thing. Anyway, that's the point. We're back human."

Vanille wanted to argue back she wasn't completely human still but that would be ruining the whole charade she's keeping. She felt frustrated getting herself a Focus and clearly not enjoying any of it perks that it should have as the curse's consolation. She stole another glance at her friend. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

All the while Fang spent her night outside, Vanille contemplated hard on her room. She understand Middle earth's situation more than her friend. Fang haven't read Arda's history, its thousand year old war with the Enemy. Like Lindzei's Cocoon, Sauron corrupted many victims. The free people are like the people of Gran Pulse, oppressed and reduced bit by bit. Fang didn't know that but Vanille did.

"I'm going," Vanille said clearly and with determination in her voice.

"Where?" Fang asked.

"To Aragorn's aid," she answered back. She turned full face and held her head high. "I'm going to help them."

Fang's eyes flashed dangerously. "You will _not_, missy. That's downright suicide."

"Our Focus before is suicide," Vanille countered back, "what's different from here? It's both to protect what I hold dear."

"Damn it Vanille! You think your death will go about changing this world? One step on the battlefield and you're dead the next second."

"I can fight Fang! I'm not paralyzed."

"You might as well be when there are thousands of orcs aiming at your head."

"You're a coward Fang!" Vanille shouted angrily. "I know what's at stake! I know I'll probably die there. But that's better than staying here and going crazy knowing war is there and you're not helping your friends to keep living."

The silence was toxic inside the room. Fang's back was on Vanille. The older woman didn't reply.

In truth, Fang wanted to punch Vanille right in the face. How dare she call her a coward? Fang, a pride of a dragoon heritage, is a coward, huh? How… she didn't want to face it. Not with her friend in front of her. Fang, the warrior, is afraid of Vanille's death. It was the one thing that could bring her to her knees. That she might not see her friend's smile again was simply horrifying.

Fang heard Vanille's footsteps left the room. She was alone now. Will she really leave?

Vanille went down to the kitchen and found the place empty. She slumped to the nearest chair and let out a heavy groan. This day could not get any stressful. If her memory told her the truth, she actually shouted at Fang. And her friend shouted back. If Vanille were anywhere near her early puberty, she would probably cry. Right now, she felt so exhausted. When was the last time they had a real argument? Did they even have a real argument? Fang had always been like a big sister to her and somewhat a surrogate mother when both of them were made orphan a long time ago.

She wasn't altogether sure how long she looked blankly at nowhere.

"_Keep my love safe, the world protected… let my favor from the Valar be given to those in battle… tree un-withered, flower immortal… star of Earendil, give light in the darkest night._"

The song continued, stopping Vanille in her brooding. The voice belonged to Arwen and Vanille was more than stunned at such clarity and resonance in her voice. It was like listening to the cool water on a silent night or a slow song from an evening bird. It was a voice Vanille was quite sure any mortal will fell in love. It came directly from above her and she followed it, hypnotized by the Evenstar's beautiful voice.

Vanille found her in her room. Arwen stopped stinging then and was now humming softly to herself. She was knitting something carefully. Upon Vanille's closer inspection, she inwardly gasped. Whatever Arwen was sewing, she was sewing it with metal. The thread gleamed like silver and reflected perfectly in the sunlight. She was dazed at the ethereal work that she didn't notice Arwen stop and looking at her with a hint of amusement. "Is it not a sight to behold? Mithril, metal more powerful than any that bends to what the master wills."

"What are you hemming?"

"A flag of the King," Arwen replied, stretching the cloth and laying it complete to see. "The Numenoreans, royal men of old, had this tree as their symbol. It is the mark of both Gondor and Arnor. It is the banner King Elessar shall wield if his time shall come."

"Elessar? Who's that?"

"Aragorn," Arwen answered. She put her work down and looked distantly at the sky. "My sight is failing and mortality is claiming me. Yet not all is hidden still from me. I see the stand beside him; in bask of dawn's light; hope is given to an endless darkness. He shall turn the tides to his favor and I see the standard shining in mithril."

"But the standard is here," Vanille said confused at Arwen's words. "How could it reach Aragorn?"

Arwen looked at her, long and hard. "That is for me to know and for you to decide. Go. It shall be ready with your horse," Arwen kissed Vanille's brow and gave Vanille her blessing. Vanille left, with clear objective on her mind.

Arwen watched the young woman go.

"Are you not going to stop her?" She said. She looked at the person hiding in the corner of her chamber. "Do you not wish for her to live?"

"She'll run farther away if I restrain her more," Fang said. She went back to where she sat before, beside the door and completely hidden from any newcomer of the room. With Vanille not noticing her, she might as well be invisible as well. "I can't believe you let her."

"I can't believe you didn't," Arwen replied, her tone mimicking the Pulsian warrior. Fang looked at her weirdly. Arwen smiled back. "I could speak as I see fit that shall give the most impact to my audience."

"I want her to live Arwen, not running blindly to war again," Fang said softly, "Aren't people entitled to something like a lifetime of peaceful lives after they lent their arms at war before? I understand she wanted to protect what she holds dear now but there are a thousand others going out there as well. Aren't they enough?"

"Perhaps Lady Vanille thinks otherwise," She bowed down, and looked longingly, "If circumstances were different, I would be at Aragorn's side as well, death and war be damned."

"Circumstances?"

"I cannot leave my Ada grieving. It shall be the death for him and will be for me. I already asked so much to him. This is all I could give comfort to the impending doom I set upon myself."

Fang remained silent at Arwen's words. She recently thought about that, helped with her past conversations with the Lord of Imladris. With Arwen choosing mortality to be united truly with Aragorn, she sacrificed her family and the faith given to her. She would never see her father again, nor her mother and brothers, and her elf friends over the ages.

"Here, it is finished," Arwen said, handing over the standard to Fang. "Go Lady Fang, and give my love to Aragorn." She kissed Fang's brow. "I know you will never let anything harm Lady Vanille."

Vanille checked her belongings. She changed back into her battle clothes, her pink outfit infinitely easier to move and run when enemy encounters happen. She tied her hair back into pigtails, so as not to distract her when it gets too out of hand and partly to get in touch with her past self as a warrior of Oerba. When she settled here, she eliminated all her accessories and opted for the plain fashion of the elven people. But now they're all back, bangles, necklaces and a good chunk of odds and ends sticking at her skirt.

She last checked herself at the mirror and smiled at the image before her. It had been a very long time since she instantly recognized herself. Her hand went to her hair. Something is not right although she can't quite put it. She tied it as tightly as possible so nothing wrong there. She looked down and saw a single line from her mark sticking out. She pulled her skirt down a bit more until it covered her mark safely. She returned to her bed and sat, put on her boots, grabbed her rod and with one final look at her room in Imladris, she left.

She was on the corridor heading outside when she met Lord Elrond as he went outside his study. "Lady Vanille, will you come inside for a moment before you leave?"

Vanille went with him and both sat at the middle of the room. Vanille took the initiative to ask the obvious. "Did word already have gone out?"

"I believe my son already mentioned how the wind keeps no secrets."

Vanille looked away. "I see. I thought Elrohir was just kidding back then."

"My son Elladan is the one who jests more often. It is Elrohir that cannot lie for the life of him."

That explains a lot. "So, um… what do you want?"

"I wish to give you this, since you decided to wear your clothing," he handed her a dark green cloak, "It came from Imladris and it shall protect you from the cold. It shall also serve as a sign to our friends you are an ally to take arms with; may it give you protection in days ahead."

Vanille took the cloak. She couldn't hold her gratitude for the elf lord that she left her chair and cried in Elrond's arms. "Thank you so much." She sniffled, "Don't worry Lord Elrond, I'll make sure Arda is kept safe." She bowed low and dashed outside.

She put on the cloak and clasped the silver brooch to secure it. Feeling a bit more spirited, she now made her way to the outer perimeter. She froze in her steps when she saw Fang approaching. She unconsciously reached for her weapon.

Only, as Fang came into nearer view, Vanille noticed several important things. First was her friend sported a similar cloak of dark green. Second was that she wasn't anywhere glaring at her for outright daring to leave. Fourth was she has a horse with her. And finally–

Fang handed to her the mythril standard, "It's quite light."

Vanille was already close to tears again. "Y-you'll come?"

Fang frowned. "You think I'll let you run of and die? As if. Besides, I made a promise to protect you."

Vanille pouted incredulously. "So all this time you'll give in? I can't believe I have to go all the way of trashing myself–"

"You want to overtake them or what?" Fang saddled her horse and got on. "It'll be a long ride missy."

Vanille ran to her readied horse. She placed the standard at her side and got on. "Ready."

"Do you have any idea where is Rohan?"

"Sort of," Vanille replied. "We follow this path across the mountain ranges and–"

"Let's go!" Fang kicked the horse and of it sprinted with the wind, her laugh echoing.

"H-hey! Wait for me!" Vanille rode off swiftly as well, catching up with her friend.

The two set off for three days and two nights. They made great distance, taking the swiftest path and although inhabited by a number of beasts, Fang disposed them with her spear. They followed the mountain ranges south and headed to the open valley that would take them to Rohan at the shortest distance.

In truth, it would have taken them a good week. Only, these horses were tended by the elves so it should have taken them five days. However…

"We'll rest here. I think our horses will not hold for a daylong of hard riding." Fang stopped them when they reached the border of Eregion and in front of a river crossing the mountains and past Lorien. The horses went for a drink after they went down.

Vanille slumped to the grass. "Lunch?"

"Maybe dinner is better. We can't afford hunting animals in unknown territory. Best if we save provisions."

"True enough," Vanile considered. She looked sideways at the horses. If Fang inspected her friend closer, she'll probably notice Vanille was nervous again. "I think I'll go eat something though."

"Suit yourself. We'll probably start again after four hours or so, else we'll tire the horses more than needed." Fang went to the nearest biggest tree in the perimeter and took a nap.

Vanille wasn't really hungry. In truth, she only wanted to find a reason to get away from Fang alone with the horses. The two were resting. Vanille approached them and brushed their mane. "We can't afford to lose time," she talked to them. Her horse replied with a shrug. Vanille smiled sadly. "I know you're still tired but I'll do something about it. Just stand still." She focused her energy and switched to her Medic role. She readied the Cure spells and brought a good chunk of energy back to their beasts. She did this a couple of times until she was quite sure her horse was fully recovered and rested. She turned to Fang's horse now. "Keep this a secret from your master. Promise?" she said and did the same. Only twenty minutes passed and the horses were ready to run again. "Haste would probably be helpful too but I don't have that magic," Vanille contemplated. "Fang had that when she was a L'Cie. Oh well, time to wake Fang up."

Fang was more than surprised when they were riding again. "What kind of feeding did these elves give? Even chocobos are not this hardy." It was already their first night and already passed Eregion. According to Vanille, they were on the borders of Dunland. If they keep this up, they'll reach Isengard in the afternoon and settle at the next night already in the valley of the mountains and on Rohan territory. It will only be a matter of finding the group.

They camped and Fang gathered the firewood. After a heated debate on conserving Vanille's power, Fang finally relented to let her cast Fire. The magic did the trick and flames burst merrily at the logs gathered. They ate the first provisions and took turns watching for the night. Fang let Vanille took watch duty, knowing full well she needed sleep too. Vanille was the first watch. As Fang slid herself to sleep, she heard Vanille humming the old songs of Oerba. Fang smiled. Vanille's voice, though nothing compared to the grandeur of the elves, was definitely the most treasured voice for Fang. It was the most vivid reminder of childhood, when the two along with their friends would gather every week on a bonfire in the middle of Oerba and the people would sing and tell tales of old.

Vanille occupied herself with watching the fire dance on its stage. Her hand neared the flame as it could tolerate the heat as possible and danced with the cackle of flames. It was warm to the cold outside. Her cloak helped greatly but the exposed part was already chilling. She went closer to the fire to warm herself.

Her blank state dissolved as Fang's horse neighed anxiously. Fang didn't stir so Vanille opted to inspect alone. She readied her weapon and approached the horse. "What's wrong now?"

A sound of footsteps thrashed the grassed. Vanille went to her battle stance. Sure enough, orcs came into view. Vanille noted how these kinds were a good deal bigger and sturdier looking. The one nearest to her already took off and attacked. Vanille cast Bravera and Protectra at herself and quickly switched to her Sentinel Role. She blocked successfully and quickly switched to her Saboteur role. She began then to unleash a plethora of Deprotect, Deshell, Imperil, and Poison. Two charged in and Vanille took the beating directly. Their swords aimed at her throat were blocked by her rod. She staggered a bit and threw back. She switched to her Commando, adjusted her aim and retaliate the two orcs' attacks. They were down immediately with the Deprotect on them. Two more charged in and Vanille threw her weapon at their direction. She pulled back to capture the first assailant and gave a good damage, knocking it to the ground. She rounded her swing back to the second and attacked directly at the orc's torso. It staggered to the ground. Vanille pulled her rod once more for it to come back; four down and one to go. She switched to her Ravager role and cast two Aerora's. Other element might be more effective but they risk waking Fang up with the spectacle they make. The orc was thrown off the ground. With one last switch to her Commando role, she knocked the last assailant out.

She inspected the damage they did to her. She had a shallow cut on her arm and a bruise forming at her left ribs. She poked the bruise and found it didn't hurt that much so didn't bother to heal it. There weren't any elves in their company, making it harder for Vanille to explain her miraculous recoveries. Fang would surely find this when her watch is due after a few minutes and Vanille had to sport something.

She went back to the camp and saw Fang stirring. She sat back to the rock she was once before and waited for Fang to wake up.

Sure enough, Fang immediately picked the signs. She sighed, "You just had to horde all the fun in the world."

"I'm sure you'll have yours," Vanille grinned, "Well, good night Fang. See you in the morning."

Nothing happened during Fang's watch. The fire already died so she busied herself instead of watching the stars. Whereas Vanille sat during the hours, Fang lay beside her sleeping friend and watched the celestial bodies twinkle in the night sky. It will only be a few more hours before dawn comes. The light was already fading in their glow. She noted how it was a bit different from Imladris. Did they really travel that far?

She compared it to their trip in Bree and found it ridiculous these horses outran Bahamut's distance. So maybe the dragon's energy came from Fang now but air travel was supposed to be swifter. It was the reason why Elrohir took her and Vanille. This trip so far should have taken two days at the least.

How? The mystery behind it was very mind boggling to her. She looked at Vanille's exhausted figure. Something was off. She got up and came to her closer. They were inches apart now. Fang's eyes went to Vanille's leg and up to her cloaked covered thighs. Her sight rested on the cloth covering Vanille's now dormant L'Cie symbol. She wondered if Vanille checks it as often as she did. Her friend probably does it less often, with its location more obscure than hers. She looked away and dismissed her thoughts.

She should be thinking right now of the days to come. If they are really going to war, it's going to be messy out there. She'll probably not have the power to summon Bahamut for too long. Actually, their eidolons will probably be more of a liability. It'll hinder them from full concentration of fighting since they need to spare a part of their energy to their summons. She looked back at Vanille and closed her eyes. As long as she would be at her friend's side to protect her, they'll both be fine. They survived the five hundred years together, they'll do it again.

Dawn finally came. They made a quick breakfast before riding off again. Afternoon came and sure enough they finally reached Isengard. The sight that greeted them was a washed up tower and remains of what seemed to be a battle recently done. They took caution and this time headed around the borders. Orcs were more abundant in Isengard and the kind Vanille fought earlier that night. Although she couldn't do her spells, her Bands with Fang were more than enough to handle the guerillas. They were two dozens of them and they attacked by four's.

Vanille quickly dispatched anyone who wields a bow while Fang charged the melee fighters in combat. Fang jumped high into the air to dodge their first assault and did Highwind. Her impact as she descended made them fell back, enough time for her to stand upright properly and even insert three Blitzes to dispatch the first four groups. Six shot their arrows at her. Two made it to her radius as Vanille effectively swiped her rod at the four arrows. Fang dodged the two left and charged at the six. Four more orcs charged forward to block their long ranged companions. Fang went this time to her Sentinel role and counterattacked anyone who charged at her. She blocked every thrust and parried it with her own. She downed two before one got past her defense and successfully hitting her hard in the chest. She staggered and planted her spear on the ground to support her standing. The two charged again. Vanille came to Fang's aid and downed one fighter. With one left, Fang got up and dueled.

Another six arrows were shot. Vanille swiped them all away with her rod. When her momentum came again, she attacked the two bowmen and downed both. The remaining four aimed there arrows this time at Vanille. She went to her Sentinel Role and took minimal damage to the beating, a cut on her shoulder, and another two for her arms. When Fang finished her opponent and saw Vanille in a bit of a bind, it earned her rage and charged dangerously fast at Vanille's assailant. She killed three of them and knocked the fourth down.

"You do _not_ mess with her," Fang spat at the corpses around her. She brought her spear at her back and rushed to Vanille to check on her. Vanille was already brushing herself and tending her minor wounds. "Can you walk?" Fang asked.

Vanille blinked at her. What kind of question was that? She only had wounds on her arms. "Um… yes?"

"Let's go, before any more comes," Fang started to walk back to the horses they left. They didn't want risking the beasts' lives and so lead the battle away. Vanille hurriedly followed behind. "Something happened in Isengard, that's for sure, and we're not dilly dallying here to find out."

"You felt it too?" Vanille said in surprise.

Fang nodded. "_Something_ moved," her eyes narrowed and watched their surrounding critically. She didn't want to tell her friend the remaining ten orcs that assaulted them were fended off by a _tree_… Fang shook her head. It must be her imagination, not that she had much for a start.

They finally met their horses and continued riding. They supposed that they made it in good time since there weren't any more ambush for the rest of the day. Still, Fang was cautious, taking the back row and watching everything she could take in. There aren't any moving trees so far. They were on the opposite border of Isengard when Fang finally decided to settle camp. And as silently agreed, she went to work with their fire while Vanille was to settle their horses and bring down the provisions. Vanille muttered six cure spells to each before joining her friend.

That night, the two didn't sleep. Vanille poked the fire every now and then while Fang was out on patrol. The place was eerie and just experienced an aftermath of a violent war. The ruble and remains were apparent. Letting your guard down on an unfamiliar territory like this was downright suicide.

After eight solid hours of keeping herself awake, Vanille opted to have her slumber riding on her horse. She found out way before horses can be ridden while asleep unlike chocobos; at least, from what she knows in Imladris. Fang guided their group until they reached the valley and up to the borders of Rohan. It was already in the middle of the afternoon so they opted for a quick rest. Vanille immediately slumped to the ground and continued dozing. Fang sat and traced the grass with her fingers.

Legolas stopped his horse halfway on their journey, causing Gimli to stumble forward at the sudden halt. "What has gotten into you?" the dwarf asked annoyed. "I don't have the legs of a Man to properly balance on a horse, I remind you, and sudden breaks are–"

"Friend, what does your elf eyes see?" Aragorn rode back to them and looked on the direction Legolas was currently gawking at.

"If fatigue had not played on my vision yet Aragorn, then what my eyes see is Lady Fang sitting on the foot of the pass."

"Lady Fang?" Aragorn said bemused, loss at words for the news.

"My lord? Is anything amiss?" Halbarad caught to them in front. "The Rangers wonder why we stopped in an open area. We could be caught in cross fire should any orcs attack. Isengard is still on our borders."

Aragorn looked back at him and nodded. "Very well then, you cross that pass on the foot of the mountain."

"Pardon?"

"… and see if Lady Fang is present." Aragorn beckoned at Legolas. "We'll wait for you Halbarad at the walls of Rohan."

"Understood," Halbarad replied curtly, bowed, and sped off with his horse.

It wasn't too long when his vision caught anything and almost fell off his horse. What in Earendil's name is Fang doing here? There saddling a horse and about to ride, Fang was present, with her wild hair, and tall stance giving her identity so much. Halbarad took note her clothes were a bit different though, an addition of elven cloak from Imladris draped her frame.

Halbarad rode harder until he was sure he was now in Fang's sight. Sure enough, Fang's pose tensed at his coming. She must not have seen his face yet. She immediately got down on her horse and brought her spear. Half a league now and Halbarad slowed and paced his horse not to crash into Fang.

"Well met my lady!" Halbarad laughed. "And what is the Dragon tamer's business in the lands of Rohan?"

Fang's body relaxed as she recognized the Ranger's voice. "Halbarad? Well, hello to you too." She put down her weapon and ran to greet a familiar face. In truth, she was relieved the first person they encountered for a while is a friend. It occurred to her should they meet a Rohirric, language gap may involve and Fang for the life of her had no desire whatsoever to deal with a bunch of people suspecting her to be an enemy. Again.

"Are you alone on your venture or do I trust Lady Vanille is with you as well?" Halbarad guessed as much. The people in Imladris didn't need much to guess anyway. The two friends were almost inseparable across lands. They may not be seen always with each other but on terms of travels they were always together.

"Yeah, I'm pretty much her escort," she beckoned at their place. "She's sleeping like a log over there."

"I am truly amazed how swift you got here," Halbarad sighed. "How fares Imladris?"

"Same thing, alive and well. Oh and Arwen made a flag for Aragorn," she handed him the stand. "I figured it would be more appropriate if you give it to him since you're closer to him than me."

Halbarad admired the work. "The Lady Evenstar gives so much blessing in this stand. Is this mithril?" He touched the thread and gasped. "Such kingly gift!" He bowed low and handed it back to Fang. "This belongs to you to give to Lord Aragorn. I believe that is what the Evenstar would wish."

"Is it really that precious?" Fang raised her brow. "I thought it was just pretty when it shines with the sun."

The ranger nodded. "Indeed it is. Come, it is best if you wake Lady Vanille soon. We must head to Rohan's walls immediately! Many will be glad to see you."

"Surprised more like," Fang corrected, smirking.

Halbarad laughed. "True enough."

Fang walked over to where Vanille slept and shook her, "Time to wake up missy."

"It's still my bedtime Fang," Vanille mumbled. "Can it wait until later?"

"No, Halbarad's waiting."

Vanille rubbed her eyes at what Fang just said. "Who?" she asked weakly.

"The Ranger," Fang answered. "Come on or we'll resort tomorrow clawing every inch of Rohan finding its capital."

"I don't want that," the younger woman replied and shot up. She stretched her arms and peered at Fang's behind. Halbarad was there smiling at her, causing her eyes to grow wide and her voice to scream in delight. "Halbarad!"

"Well met Lady Vanille," Halbarad laughed in reply. "It is well you are flamboyant as ever."

"Are the others all right?" Vanille asked as she started saddling her horse and mounting.

Halbarad nodded. "They are now in Rohan's capital."

Fang mounted on her horse too and said, "Well, let's ride and make it there by night."

The three rode hard to the vast plains. To Fang, it felt like an ocean, endless and without any sign of mark. She was silently grateful Halbarad found them. The ranger seemed to know the direction they were heading even without any sign of direction. The land continued to stretch on. It was only at dusk Fang could make out the city a few leagues away.

"We're here," Fang said under her breath. She grinned madly, her whole self sensing the nostalgia of adventure once more. "Bring it!" She took off her horse faster, earning two shouts from behind from his friends.

Rohan.

The day settled and the night grew quiet. The company retired in the halls of the castle and only the sons of Elrond and the Three Company were left to watch the night sky.

"My lords?"

Aragorn turn around to greet the newcomer. "Lady Eowyn, you should retire now. You have already done so much for my company tonight."

"My lord, I came here wishing to sway you from your chosen path," Eowyn said, her eyes downcast. "Would you truly go to the Path of the Dead? No mortal have passed through and lived to tell the tale." She looked at Aragorn and pleaded. "My lord, the men needed you. You shouldn't risk your life for this. Return to my uncle's side to aid their battle for Gondor. With you by their side, there will be strength, strength to protect everyone."

Aragorn watched Eowyn and felt compassion over the woman. "My lady, I am needed more here than there. And you are too needed here to protect your forefather's land."

"There is no need to protect Rohan if all failed," Eowyn replied determined. "I want to fight because I want to protect what I hold dear. I want to fight because all that I love are there in battle. There is nothing for me here. If I can't sway you, then please take with you and join you in your ranks."

"My lady–" Aragorn's voice was drowned when loud steps echoed the hall.

"My lords and lady Eowyn, someone is by the gate," the messenger knelt quickly and announced the news, "A man and two women claiming alliance to you Lord Aragorn."

"Halbarad?" Aragorn asked.

The messenger nodded. "That is who he claims to be and the two women. My apologies Lord Aragorn but their names are foreign–"

"Fang," Legolas breathed and dashed outside. "It was not a dream then."

"Lady Fang?" Elladan approached Aragorn at his side and looked in disbelief. "What is she doing here?"

"I have not the faintest idea," Aragorn replied. "We were on our way here when Legolas said he saw the silhouette of Lady Fang. I sent Halbarad to recon the area." He frowned. "Two women? Could it be Lady Vanille joined Lady Fang as well?"

"I'd be more surprised if the young lady is left behind," Elladan commented. "Still, what is their business here?"

Not long, three newcomers entered the hall. Halbarad first bowed in the presence of his lords. "My search bore fruit two way warders in the borders of Rohan."

"Hey, we'll eventually arrive here with or without help," Fang replied dryly. "You just happen to be a shortcut."

"Well met Lady Fang as always," Elladan smiled warmly.


End file.
